


Trio

by ebbj9891



Series: In Quest Of Something [79]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Established Relationship, Family Issues, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, POV Brian Kinney, POV Daphne Chanders, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:45:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebbj9891/pseuds/ebbj9891
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses through the years into the friendships forged between Justin, Daphne, and Brian.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne is missing Justin terribly. She seeks out Brian's company and discovers that he's struggling as much as she is

When Justin leaves for New York, Daphne feels his absence.  _Feels_ it, in her bones, at the core of her being, in her heart and soul. 

She’s sickened by how melodramatic she’s being, but it is what it is. She suffers through the first few weeks, torn between wanting to be optimistic and feeling totally downtrodden by Justin’s departure. He doesn’t call, text, or write nearly enough. Contact is fleeting. Her optimism feels as though it’s disintegrating. Daphne frequently finds herself on the cusp of tears and she hates herself for it.

The first care package that Justin sends is, well, a godsend. Daphne is overjoyed to find it waiting for her; she immediately recognises Justin’s handwriting atop the parcel, decoratively spelling out her name and address. She tears into it and discovers an amazing array of gifts - cutesy souvenirs, bits and pieces from some junk shop in Brooklyn, and treasures from some flea market on the Upper West Side. Then there’s an envelope that’s full to bursting, packed with sketches and a letter. Daphne devours the letter, clutching the pages as though they were Justin himself. She misses him, _fuck_ does she miss him, but this helps. It helps a lot.

It helps Brian, too, since Justin has included a gift for him _(I need to save on postage,_ he explains in his letter, _so can you please make sure Brian gets his gift?)_. So Daphne visits Brian at the diner and hands over the envelope, which she has been emphatically instructed **_not_** to open. Brian opens it on the spot, grinning all the while, and doesn’t hesitate to show Daphne the very explicit sketches that Justin has sent him. They laugh and joke about what a deviant Justin is, and Daphne makes sure to inform Justin personally via text: _Brian showed me the sketches. You are such a filthy perv. Love you :) xoxo_

They spend the rest of the day texting, which also helps. So do the phone calls. It soothes the ragged longing that Daphne feels... at least, it does for a while. Through the second, third, fourth care packages, she remains cheerful. She visits Brian and looks forward to giving him his share; it always brings a huge smile to his face, one which she loves to see.

She comes home to the fifth care package after a shitty, shitty day. Med school is beating her to a pulp, her parents are pressuring her with such intensity that she feels like she might collapse at any given moment, and her best friend is gone and he’s not coming back. That became obvious a few weeks ago during one of their phone calls. New York isn’t easy - Justin is almost flat broke and totally exhausted - but it’s clearly his home. He’s madly, crazily, dizzily in love with it. _Maybe,_ she muses dismally whilst listening to Justin chatter about his latest meet-up with a group of queer artists, _he loves New York more than he ever loved me._

Daphne despises herself for thinking that way and being so utterly pathetic, but she’s at her limit and it’s easy to fall into dismal spells. It’s made even easier when she arrives home, looking forward to the care package, and finds it destroyed on her doorstep. It looks more like a soggy pancake than a parcel - it’s been soaked with rain and clearly dropped or trodden on. It takes everything she has not to burst into tears right then and there. It then takes an immense amount of effort to kneel down, pick it up, stand back up, unlock the door, and walk inside. Once she’s in, she slams the door shut and collapses into her favourite armchair and stares at the sad looking parcel. It’s in worse shape than she is. As she opens it, the sodden paper comes apart easily. The envelopes inside - one addressed to her, one addressed to Brian - are totally drenched, so badly that they’re just clumps of waterlogged paper and runny ink. There are fragments of glass everywhere, daggered through a too-thin layer of bubble-wrap and shattered so thoroughly that she can’t even tell what the hell it was Justin procured for her. The only thing that has survived is Brian’s gift, which is covered in a thicker layer of bubble wrap and sealed in a plastic bag. Daphne pulls it out and tries the wet plastic against her sleeve. She grabs her phone and texts Brian: _Package from J arrived - see you at Kinnetik tomorrow? x_

It’ll likely be a while until he responds (he’s been more of a workaholic than ever lately), so Daphne tries calling Justin. As soon as she dials his number, a robotic voice recites that the number is out of service. Of fucking course - Brian mentioned something about Justin being a stubborn little shit and refusing to accept money. It doesn’t surprise Daphne at all that he’s not able to pay his phone bill, what with his crappy job barely covering the rent.

She sets Brian’s gift aside and marches into her bedroom. From her nightstand, she retrieves an envelope and a pen. She addresses it to Justin, stuffs some cash inside, and adds a note: _Don’t you dare send this back - pay your goddamned phone bill. Miss you :( xoxo_

Once she’s stashed it in her purse to post later, Daphne returns to the armchair and sinks into it. It’s not just _her_ favourite armchair; it was always Justin’s, too. She remembers cuddling up with him in it after nights out and waking up with him wrapped around her, like they’ve done since they were children.

She stares at the ruined parcel, at its wet, peeling paper, at the shards of glass inside, and bursts into tears.

*

The next day is, fortunately, her day off. Daphne wakes up early, blocks her parents’ numbers for the timebeing, and goes for a run around the lake near her apartment. It works off some of the stress - just enough that she feels ready to face the day. She grabs breakfast en route to Kinnetik, including a coffee for Brian, and posts Justin’s letter (if you can call thirteen words laced with tough love a ‘letter’, but whatever, Justin needs some tough love right now).

Kinnetik is buzzing with activity which immediately makes Daphne feel uneasy. She wouldn’t want to interrupt Brian if he’s busy, but when Cynthia sees her she grabs Daphne and sighs, “Thank god you’re here. Cheer him up, will you?”

Then she pushes Daphne into Brian’s office, where he’s sitting moodily at his desk. Daphne rustles up her very best smile and greets him cheerfully. Brian smiles back weakly, then peers at her curiously. Maybe her smile wasn’t as convincing as she had hoped. Still eyeing her warily, he asks, “How are things?”

“Things are…” she considers lying to him, but Brian has a sixth fucking sense for dishonesty, so she resists the urge. “Things are shit.”

He smiles sympathetically. “I know the feeling.”

Daphne sits down across from him and hands him his gift. “There was a letter, too, but it got ruined. Sorry.”

Brian shrugs and turns the bubble-wrapped gift over and over in his hands. Then he sighs and sets it aside. Remembering Cynthia’s desperate instruction, Daphne makes a weak attempt at humour. “It’s probably best not to open it here. They seem to be getting more and more perverse… kind of like Justin.”

He laughs a little and nods. “I’ll open it later. What are you doing tonight?”

She smiles at him and admits candidly, “I was kind of planning on getting outrageously drunk.”

Brian raises his eyebrows. “What a coincidence - so was I.”

A spark of hope ignites within Daphne. She grins at Brian winningly and proposes, “Wanna get outrageously drunk together?”

He grins back and her hope doubles. “Fuck, yes.”

*

They agree to meet at the loft later on, after Brian has finished dealing with ‘waste-of-space, incompetent underlings’ and ‘arrogant fucking asshole clients’. Daphne almost offers to trade with him - it might be a nice change of pace if she could deal with underlings and clients, if only Brian would deal with her parents. But alas - they’re both stuck with the hands that they’ve been dealt.

As she’s leaving Kinnetik, Cynthia chases her and corners her outside. “Did I just hear him making plans with you?”

Daphne nods. “Uh, yeah… is that… okay?”

“Okay?” Cynthia laughs. “Honey, that’s the best news I’ve heard all week. You have no idea how fucking difficult he’s been lately.”

Worried, Daphne asks, “Is he alright?”

Cynthia arches an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Before Daphne can respond, Cynthia continues on assertively. “The next time I see Justin, I plan on kissing him, then killing him. I mean, I’ll resuscitate him, but still. This is getting harder and harder on Brian. And you, obviously.”

 _Obviously._ That kind of stings. Cynthia can clearly tell - she settles her hands on Daphne’s shoulders and squeezes comfortingly. “Don’t worry. The three of you will get through this. It’s just a rough patch. Just look after him, okay? And make sure he eats something. Anything. He refuses to let me play mommy-”

Daphne bursts out laughing. “Do you think he’s gonna let me?”

“No,” Cynthia concedes, shaking her head. “But you have a better chance than the rest of us.”

“I do?”

“Sweetie,” Cynthia says with a smile, “You’re the first person he’s agreed to spend time with in weeks. _Weeks._ I don’t know how you did it, but I’m so fucking proud of you, I could cry.”

That seems like a small victory since Daphne can’t really imagine Cynthia, of all people, crying. She promises Cynthia that she’ll try her best and they part ways. Daphne leaves with a renewed sense of confidence and determination. This _is_ a rough patch, but Cynthia’s right - they can get through it. _Tonight,_ Daphne promises herself, _will be the first stage of surviving this shitty long-distance nightmare._

*

After spending the rest of the day baking, Daphne shows up to the loft with a picnic basket full of food and a couple of bottles of wine. When Brian opens the door, he looks relieved, as though he was potentially expecting it to be someone else, someone less welcome. Though she’s admittedly intrigued, Daphne decides not to pesk him about it and sets down the basket to give him a hug. It seems that he’s in great need of one; Brian hugs her back eagerly, and it’s then that she realises how much she’s needed one, too.

“I feel I should warn you,” Brian drawls, as he collects up the basket and carries it inside for her, “My definition of ‘outrageously drunk’ may be slightly more… _extravagant_ than yours.”

“Please,” Daphne scoffs, smirking at him. “I bet I can drink you under the table.”

Brian smirks right back. “Is that a challenge?”

“Sure is.” She grins and opens the basket. “I brought wine and dinner. Although, _I_ should probably warn _you:_ my version of dinner at times like this is baked goods and baked goods alone.”

Daphne pulls out each item and sets them down on the kitchen counter. “Peach pie, chocolate mudcake, peanut butter cookies, and lemon tartlettes. Oh, and I brought wine, too.”

She’s pleased to see Brian’s eyes light up. He smiles at her and leans in to kiss her cheek.

“Thanks,” he says, sounding hugely grateful.

Daphne can’t help but blush. Smiling back at him, she vows, “Any time.”

*

“You sent him money?” Brian laughs and shakes his head. “I sent him money, too.”

“Mine had a threatening note,” Daphne giggles. She can’t stop giggling - the sugar high mixed with their extreme alcohol consumption has rendered her ever so slightly giddy.

“Mine too,” Brian snickers. “Something along the lines of: _Cash this cheque, you stubborn little twat, or fucking else.”_

“He’d better accept it. He can’t keep scrounging for tips every day - it’s hardly what he went there for.”

Brian shrugs. “If he doesn’t, I say we sic Jennifer on him. Or Debbie.”

Daphne grins evilly. “Or both. They’ll sort him out.”

Brian clinks his glass against hers in agreement, at which point he seems to notice that they’re both nearing empty. As he gets up and heads to the bar to source more booze, Daphne is suddenly hit with a wave of longing for their missing person. She’s sober enough to keep herself from crying, but drunk enough that she immediately word-vomits up all of her feelings.

“It feels like I lost a limb,” Daphne laments. She breathes a sigh of relief as Brian returns to the couch with another bottle of wine and watches him fill her glass to the brim. “Well… the limb is still out there, somewhere, and I know it’s… shit, this doesn’t make any sense.”

Nothing makes much sense through their shared haze of drunkenness. Daphne considers it a kindness when Brian generously says, “I know what you mean.”

That seems dubious given that _she_ doesn’t even know what she means. They haven’t quite reached the point of ‘outrageously drunk’ yet, but they’re certainly in the vicinity. It’s a decent anaesthetic for two people who are recently limbless. As Brian props his feet up on the coffee table, he says, “At least the limb is doing well.”

“The limb _would_ do well-” Daphne dissolves into laughter. “Shit, Justin would kill us if he knew we were referring to him as a lost limb. Or a limb at all.”

“The limb isn’t here to raise any objections,” Brian snarks, smirking. “So I don’t see any harm.”

“True,” Daphne laughs. “I mean… I’m happy for him and all, but I’m not used to him not being around.”

She takes a decent drink – another dose of anaesthesia – and smiles at Brian as he immediately tops her up. “We’ve been so close for so long. His dad used to have a name for us… he called us a duo. The something duo. The… fuck, I can’t remember.”

“When was that?” Brian queries, and it’s then that Daphne realises that it was at least six years ago. Ancient fucking history, essentially.

“Ages ago,” she admits. “Like, back when I still considered Craig ‘questionable’ as a father to Justin instead of ‘reprehensible’.”

Anger briefly flickers across Brian’s face. He takes a drink, then muses darkly, “Does ‘reprehensible’ even cover it?”

With a shrug, Daphne concedes, “Not really. You know… I still have to see him sometimes. He’s friends with my parents and they’re always inviting him to dinners and family events and stuff like that.”

She almost shudders at the thought. Brian is clearly just as horrified. “And you’re able to sustain an appetite?”

“Barely.” Daphne winces. “It’s the worst. He acts like he hasn’t done anything wrong and always asks after Jen and Molly, all friendly-like. Never Justin, though.”

“Of course not,” Brian mutters bitterly.

Daphne snorts. “I always mention him, though. Like fuck am I going to let him get away with pretending that a) Justin doesn’t exist, and b) that when Justin _did_ exist, that Craig didn’t treat him like utter shit.”

“And he hasn’t – oh, I don’t know – had you arrested? Hit you with his car?”

“Not so far,” Daphne laughs. “I mean, I’m sure I’m pissing him off but there’s shit all he can do about it. What’s he gonna do, scream at me in front of my parents? He’s too preoccupied with social niceties to risk going nuclear on me.”

“If he ever does,” Brian says, grinning at her, “You know who to call.”

“Thanks.” Daphne smiles back at him appreciatively. “So when are you seeing Justin next?”

“Two – no, three weeks.”

“And Gus?”

“Five weeks.” Brian sighs, reaches for another lemon tartlette, and devours it miserably. Then, bitterly, he mutters, “Five fucking weeks.”

Sensing that he’s keen to eat his feelings, Daphne grabs another tartlette and hands it to him. Brian demolishes it in mere seconds, then takes another big gulp of wine. 

Daphne doesn’t know whether pushing the topic of Gus is necessarily a good idea, but she’s curious as to how the kid is going. “Is he doing okay now? Justin told me about how anxious he’s been since the move…”

“He’s alright.” Brian shrugs. “He’s getting there, or so the munchers tell me.”

“That’s something.” Daphne tries smiling at him, but it doesn’t really work - not when she’s feeling so melancholy.

Brian does a better job of it as he smiles at her. “Lindsay said that you called and read him a story last week.”

Daphne nods. “Justin was supposed to but they called him in for an extra shift, so he asked if I could cover. I didn’t think Gus would be very pleased, but he seemed okay with it.”

“He likes you. He especially likes your reading skills.” Brian laughs and adds drily, “Mine are somewhat lacking, apparently.”

“Really?”

Brian rolls his eyes. “The last time I tried to read to him, he kept interrupting me and saying-” he imitates Gus in a high pitch, “‘read it like Jus and Daphne do!’. Of course, he finds it incredibly frustrating when I ask what he means by that. I don’t know what you two are doing, but it’s working.”

“I’m glad he enjoys it so much,” Daphne says, feeling quite flattered. A smile is creeping back onto her face. “You know, I wouldn’t worry too much about your storytelling skills. I spoke to Linz after Gus went to sleep. She said that nobody else can calm him down like you do. That seems a lot more valuable than being able to do the right voice for the Cat in the Hat.”

Brian smiles back at her and says quietly, “Thanks.”

“So… what are you and Justin gonna do in three weeks time?”

A sly smirk curves across Brian’s face. “You know, I would tell you that it’s none of your business, which has been my stock-standard response of late… but it seems that Sunshine tells you everything.”

“He does,” Daphne admits, laughing. “Like, _everything._ Never a detail spared with that one.”

“How entertaining that must be,” Brian snarks. Then he goes quiet for a moment and a slight frown forms on his face. After taking another drink, he asks, “Does he tell you anything else?”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Brian sighs and winces slightly. “Like if he’s happy.”

“He’s happy being in New York,” Daphne says slowly, as she reflects on the recent letters and phone calls. “He’s not so happy being away from you.”

Brian stares at her. “Is he alright?”

“I think he’s alright. I think it’s just hard on him, like it’s hard on us. I mean…” Daphne pauses and sips at her wine needily. “I mean, that’s how I’d describe it. I’m not a tragic mess over him leaving, I’m doing okay… it’s just that it’s hard to get used to and that ultimately, I’d prefer to be close to him. I’m not going to demand that he come back or anything, I just know that I’m happiest when he’s nearby.”

With a soft, weary sigh, Brian sinks down until he’s almost lying down. Dejectedly, he admits, “That sounds about right.”

Seeking out comfort for the both of them, Daphne reaches over and touches his arm gently. As he forces a smile at her, she says, “I think he feels the same way. He’s happiest when he’s with us… but he has other things that make him happy, too. I guess he’s kind of torn in between.”

“Yeah.” Brian grabs the wine and tops them up again. “Thank fuck you get it.”

That confuses Daphne. She’s particularly struck by how bitter Brian sounds. “What other way is there to see it?”

Brian’s mouth twists unhappily. Daphne gives his arm a small squeeze, but it doesn’t seem to offer much comfort.

“People assume that he abandoned me and that because he’s gone, that it’s over. It’s _not_ fucking over. We’re not exactly great at this long-distance thing, but like hell am I going to end it. Well, not unless he wanted me to.”

“He doesn’t,” Daphne insists quickly, desperate to reassure Brian. “Uh, maybe I shouldn’t tell you this… but honestly, I’m too drunk to stop myself… Justin was kind of worried that it would end. That you guys would get fed up with all the time apart and call it quits. And when I say ‘worried’, I mean I basically had to talk him in off the goddamned ledge.”

She pauses, then nudges Brian and promises, “He wants to be with you. Even if it’s this hellish, hundreds-of-miles-apart, only seeing each other every few weeks kind of being with you. Trust me.”

“He’s allowed to change his mind,” Brian says, but it’s a little lacking in conviction.

“He’s not gonna change his mind,” Daphne asserts. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

“You will, will you?”

“Uh, yeah I will. I’m not going to suffer through another Ethan.”

“Ian,” Brian corrects with a smirk.

“Ian,” Daphne agrees, falling into another fit of giggles. “Like, Justin did well in choosing you… you’re fucking awesome. But that whole Ian stint… it crushed my confidence in Justin’s taste in men. If you guys did break up, what kind of creepoid would he go after this time? I mean, Ian was… abhorrent.”

 _“Abhorrent,”_ Brian repeats, grinning approvingly. He leans in closer, eyes her flirtaciously, and urges, “Tell me more.”

“I _hated_ him,” Daphne blurts out forcefully, which makes them both dissolve into laughter. “He was such a pretentious asshole. Every time Justin made me spend time with him, I felt like lobotomising myself.”

Shaking with laughter, Brian asks, “Seriously?”

“Seriously!” Daphne says, giggling helplessly. “There was this one night... we all went out to this Chinese restaurant and I spent the entire night staring at my chopsticks, wishing I could lobotomise myself with them. Like, listening to him wax lyrical about Chopin or Grieg or what-the-fuck-ever was so fucking annoying.”

“He always seemed insufferable,” Brian muses smugly. 

“Ugh, insufferable doesn’t even begin to cover it. And I mean, I love Justin, but I wanted to throttle him. There’s only so much drippy talk about love eternal that I can take - especially when his so-called ‘everlasting love’ was obviously a total scumbag.”

“Amen to that,” Brian enthuses, and he pours them both another drink.

Daphne nudges Brian again and, though she’s sure it goes without saying, she says it anyway: “I was so relieved when it was over. Even more so when he made his way back to you. I... I have never seen him as happy as he is when he’s with you.”

Brian smiles at her softly, though there’s a hint of surprise clouding it - maybe even a little doubt. Daphne touches his arm gently and adds, “It really means a lot, to see him that happy. Thank you, Brian.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, but his smile grows into something sounder and surer, and he leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. Daphne takes his hand and holds it in hers. Then something occurs to her and she starts to laugh again.

“What?” Brian asks curiously, smiling at her.

“I was just thinking,” she laughs, “What Craig will do at the next family dinner if I tell him that you’re my new drinking buddy.”

Brian snorts. “He’d probably upend the table.”

“Go totally apoplectic,” Daphne adds, giggling, “Maybe burn the house down. You know, to cleanse it of my unholy presence.”

“Of course, he’d blame us for that,” Brian snickers, “So he’d try and have one or both of us thrown in jail.”

“Sounds about right.”

Daphne grabs another peanut butter cookie and splits it in two, then offers half to Brian. He accepts it with a grateful smile, and she can’t help but think that he looks so much better than he did earlier in the day. She feels better, too, and it’s not just the copious amounts of alcohol and baked goods that have elevated her mood. It’s Brian - his presence, his companionship, the fact that he’s in precisely the same shitty situation that she is. To have someone by her side who understands is ever so comforting. For the first time since Justin left Pittsburgh, Daphne feels like herself again. There’s still a part missing, but she feels a hell of a lot less lonely now.

“We should do this again,” she says, detecting a slight slur in her words. She hasn’t drunk this much in… well, ever. The booze seems to be getting the better of Brian, too – he’s slouchier now and his eyes are drooping a little.

Nonetheless, he quietly agrees, “We should.”

Daphne leans against Brian’s arm and rests her head on his shoulder. The drunken haze is thickening, turning everything blurry and dim. Her last clear thought before she passes out is how nice it feels to be part of a duo again. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne and Brian join Jennifer for dinner; unfortunately, the evening doesn't go quite as planned.

“Thanks for coming with me tonight,” Daphne says, smiling at Brian as she rifles through her purse for her spare keys to Jen and Molly’s place. As she finds them and unlocks the door, she adds, “Jen’s been missing Justin a lot lately. It’ll be good to have you around – then she’ll have two of us to unleash all her motherly love on.”

Brian shrugs. “No problem.”

Daphne steps into the house with a smile on her face. She’s been looking forward to this night all week – it’s always nice to see Jen and it’s even nicer doing so with Brian by her side. However, the smile drops from her face when she realises that all is not well in the Taylor household.

“You are _ruining_ my _life!”_

Molly’s hysterical shriek stops Daphne and Brian dead in their tracks. As they freeze in the entryway, they’re confronted with the sight of Jen and Molly facing off. Jen is standing at the bottom of the stairs and glaring up at Molly, who’s pacing back and forth across the landing like a caged lion preparing to pounce.

“I am not ‘ruining your life’,” Jennifer retorts, heaving a weary sigh. “What you’re asking of me is completely absurd.”

“Absurd? _Absurd?!”_ Molly laughs bitterly and points at Brian. “Why don’t you tell him that?”

As Jen turns around with a look of total horror, Molly continues stabbing her finger at Brian. “Why don’t you tell Brian what you really think of him?”

“This has nothing to do with Brian!” Jen snaps, tossing another furious look Molly’s way. Then she turns back to Brian and says earnestly, “Honestly, Brian, honey, don’t listen to her. This isn’t about you.”

“Of course it’s about him!” Molly hollers, throwing her hands up in the air. “You said that it’s out of the question for me to go out with Alex because he’s an ‘older man’. Alex is only six years older than me! If he’s an ‘older man’, what the hell does that make Brian?!”

Then, somewhat guiltily, she adds, “Sorry, Brian. No offense.”

“None taken,” Brian says in a clipped voice.

It’s pretty clear that a lot of offense has been taken. Hoping to avoid further offense, Daphne curls her fingers around Brian’s arm and starts backing them towards the door. A quick getaway is needed and it shouldn’t be too hard to make one – Molly is creating a perfect diversion by reeling off the very eventful pre-prom era of Brian and Justin’s relationship. Jen, who looks utterly livid, doesn’t hesitate to fight right back. Judging by the current state of affairs, it probably won’t be long until both of them are screaming the house down.

As their fight continues to escalate rapidly, Daphne manages to get herself and Brian back to the front door. She even manages to open it, but just as she’s sure that freedom is imminent, Molly zeroes in on her and demands, “Daphne, say something!”

Daphne freezes. Molly and Jen are both staring at her expectantly. Even Brian looks curious as to what she’s going to say.

“Um,” she says, surely dazzlingly them all with her eloquence, “Uh, Brian and I should really be going. We didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No!” Jen’s face falls. “No, you two can’t go. You were invited to dinner and you’ll stay for dinner. Molly is _not_ going to ruin our evening – she’s simply going to have to grow up and face facts.”

“‘Face facts’?” Molly scoffs. “Here’s an interesting fact - an _actual_ fact: you let Justin have a thirty-year-old boyfriend-”

“I was twenty-nine,” Brian mutters, sounding most displeased. Daphne squeezes his arm a little.

“- but I can’t go out with a friend of a friend, just because he’s in college?”

“You’re fifteen!” Jen bellows. “And he’s not a friend of a friend, don’t lie to me! You met him online! Christ, Molly, he’s probably a serial killer.”

Molly huffs and shrieks, “Ugh, you are so ancient! Everyone dates online these days!”

“Not when they’re fifteen!” 

“Age is irrelevant! Alex could be the one for me, just like Brian is the one for Justin!” Molly throws a pleading look Brian’s way. “Brian, tell her!”

Brian seems intensely uncomfortable with being put on the spot, especially with Jen glaring at him warningly. He shrugs and supplies awkwardly, “It doesn’t always work out so well.”

“Exactly,” Jen declares triumphantly. She smiles at Brian and then turns back to Molly. “Those two are the exception, _not_ the rule!”

Molly remains unconvinced. “How do you know?! You don’t know anything about Alex!”

“I know that he’s a grown man trying to pick up a fifteen-year-old who he met in some chatroom that’s probably a breeding ground for perverts!”

“Ugh! You are so frigid!” 

Since they’re back to squabbling, Daphne decides to try to make a break for it again. But just as she’s opening the door, Jen spins around and orders, “Daphne Chanders, you stay right where you are.”

Daphne shuts the door with great haste.  Jen clearly isn’t to be trifled with right now. She doesn’t let go of Brian’s arm just yet – it’s of considerable comfort to have him close by her side during all of this – and resigns herself to bearing witness to this awful fight.

For a while, it seems like Molly is going to best Jen with her droves of teenage angst and her razor-sharp tongue. But then she makes a fatal misstep: “If you won’t let me, I’ll just go to Dad and get his permission!”

“You’ll go to your dad?” Jen laughs. “Okay, sweetie, good idea. I’ll call him right now and see what he thinks of his fifteen-year-old daughter going out with a twenty-two-year-old-”

“Twenty- _one!!”_

“- potential serial killer from some random, seedy chat room! Seriously, let’s see what he thinks.” Jen turns around and holds out her hand. “One of you give me your phone.”

Before either of them can summon a response, Molly relents with a melodramatic sigh. “Fine! Forget it! Don’t call Dad, don’t let me see Alex – just lock me up in a tower, mother, why don’t you?!”

“I am so sorry about this,” Jen says, throwing a desperately apologetic look at Daphne and Brian. Then she whips around and demands of Molly, “Why can’t you date someone your own age?”

Molly drops her head into her hands and wails frustratedly, as though Jen is the source of all earthly suffering. Then she looks up, tosses a sympathetic look Brian’s way, and snarks, “Sorry, Brian. I don’t know why she’s being such a bitch tonight. I mean, she can never make her mind up, can she? First she hates you, then she lets Justin live with you. Then she takes him away from you. Then she gives him back. Now she’s totally trashing your relationship right in front of you because of a measly little age gap. I mean, what is she, bipolar?”

Daphne is too gobsmacked to say anything. Teenage angst is one thing, but even through her own worst episodes she never would have dared to speak to her mother the way Molly is speaking to Jen. It would appear that Jen is equally shocked – the colour is draining from her face rapidly.

Suddenly, Molly appears to have a lightbulb moment. She flounces down the stairs and strides towards Brian, facing up to him boldly with her chin held high and a determined gaze. “That’s it. I’ll come and stay with you!”

“Oh my god,” Jen sighs, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Uh,” Brian says, rivalling Daphne’s famed eloquence. 

Molly ignores their less-than-favourable reactions and continues on brazenly. “Mom sent her last unwanted child to you – why not me as well?”

“I can think of one pretty important reason,” Daphne mutters, eyeing Molly up and down pointedly. She has to suppress a giggle when she catches Brian biting back a laugh.

This doesn’t deter Molly one bit. She continues staring at Brian expectantly as she asks, “Can I please come and stay with you? I’m so over this whole scene.”

“Uh,” Brian says, his brow furrowing, “Look, the thing is-”

“The thing is you’re not going with him,” Jen says tersely. “Molly, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous! You ditched Justin with him; I bet you liked that. This time, you don’t even have to do the ditching. I’m going of my own accord and absolving you of all parental responsibility.”

Jen runs her hands through her hair and sighs sharply. “Honey-”

“Don’t ‘honey’ me, Jennifer! I’m going to stay with Brian!”

“No, you’re not.”

Daphne doesn’t mean to say it – it just kind of slips out. She only fully realises that she’s said it when everyone turns to stare at her: Jen seems relieved and grateful, Molly looks affronted, and Brian is staring at her pleadingly, his desperate expression clearly reading: _get me the hell out of this._

“Daphne,” Molly hisses conspirationally, “Come _on.”_

Why Molly thinks that they’re in this together is lost on Daphne. She ignores Molly’s demanding gaze and asserts, “You’re not going to stay with Brian. You belong either here or with your dad – not with Brian, or with me, or with this ‘Alex’ guy. Speaking of which – your mom is just trying to protect you. It’s hardly unreasonable for her to stop you from seeing some random person you met online, especially when said person is six years older than you.”

Molly’s jaw drops. Daphne shrugs at her and adds, “Sorry, Mol.”

“I just want you to be safe,” Jen says softly. “That’s all, sweetie.”

“I’m not speaking to you,” Molly snaps, tossing a filthy look at her mother. Then she turns back to Brian. “You’ll let me come and stay with you, right? It’s what Justin would want.”

“It’s not what your dad would want,” Daphne snarks, because she really can’t help herself.

Molly ignores that barb and continues staring at Brian imploringly. He shrugs at her and says, “You should listen to your mom. That’s what Justin would want.”

“You should also apologise to her,” Daphne adds. “I know you probably won’t realise this for a few years, but it’s seriously messed up to talk to her the way that you’ve been talking to her. She deserves better than that, Mol.”

This is met with an emphatic nod from Brian and a small, grateful smile from Jen. Molly, however, is scandalised. She narrows her eyes at Daphne, then huffs and flounces back upstairs. “I hate all of you!!!”

Moments later, her bedroom door crashes shut.

Once the windowpanes and floorboards have stopped shaking, Jen rustles up a smile and suggests, “Shall we eat?”

*

“I’m so sorry that you two had to see that,” Jen says, shaking her head dismally. “Apparently it’s my lot in life to deal with tantrum-prone teenagers.”

“Are they all like that?” Brian queries with a fear-stricken expression. His fear visibly intensifies when Jen nods solemnly.

“You have almost a decade before Gus hits his teens,” Daphne says, patting his arm. “Don’t stress.”

Jen perks up and asks, “How is Gus?”

Brian instantly brightens as well. “He’s good. He starts school soon, which he’s not entirely pleased about, but Lindsay thinks he’ll warm to it eventually.”

“I’m sure he...” Jen pauses as Molly comes sauntering into the dining room, “... will.”

With a frosty expression, Molly circles the table and grabs a plate. She starts filling it with food whilst icing out all three of them.

“Would you care to join us?” Jen asks, which Daphne thinks is pretty damn generous given Molly’s behaviour.

Molly isn’t as appreciative of Jen’s generosity. She ignores her completely, apparently content to let the tension escalate higher and higher.

Eager to break the glacial silence, Daphne offers cheerfully, “Hey, Mol, I just remembered - I have a present for you from Justin.”

“Forget it,” Molly says stiffly, “Justin’s a total traitor and a massive hypocrite, just like the three of you.”

She hits each and every one of them with a bone-chilling glare and then returns to stacking her plate with food. Once it’s full, Molly stomps off into the kitchen. They’re then treated to the sounds of cupboard doors being slammed and the fridge door being wrenched open and closed violently. Daphne cringes - she’s no stranger to Taylor tantrums, but this one is possibly the worst she’s ever witnessed. She reaches across the table and touches Jen’s hand comfortingly.

“I guess Justin sided with us,” Jen muses quietly, smiling warmly. “I’ll have to call him later and thank him. Is he working tonight?”

“‘Til two,” Brian supplies, grimacing slightly.

“Ah,” Jen purses her lips. “Maybe tomorrow, then.”

As Molly comes storming back through the dining room, she throws a few more dirty looks their way. Then she halts in the doorway and regards them one-by-one with a very calculating look. 

“Wow, it’s awfully quiet in here,” she says, falsely chirpy, “If you’re looking for something to talk about, here’s a fun topic...”

As Molly trails off momentarily, she pins her gaze on Daphne and narrows her eyes. Daphne’s stomach starts to sink as she wonders what Molly is up to. It then plummets as Molly announces, “Justin and Daphne had sex.”

Horrified, Daphne exclaims, _ **“Molly!”**_

This reaction pleases Molly greatly - she smirks victoriously and marches out of the room, humming happily.

“You and Justin…” Jen’s face crumples in confusion. “You had…? You and Justin had…?”

“Sex,” Brian fills in, oh-so-helpfully.

“You and Justin had sex,” Jen says slowly. She peers at Brian in confusion. “You knew about this?” 

With a bit of a smirk, he replies, “Justin told me.”

This is pretty high up on Daphne’s list of ‘conversations that should never be inflicted upon a person’. She makes a grab for her glass of white wine and downs what is left of it in one go. 

“I’m not sure I understand.” Jen frowns. “How did he…?”

Brian bursts out laughing. Mortified, Daphne hisses, “Shut up!”

He doesn’t. Daphne elbows him but Brian either can’t or won’t stop.

“Because if you knew,” Jen says, pointing at Brian, “Then Justin was already gay.”

“Justin was always gay,” Daphne points out, because she feels as though she ought to. It’s not easy, though - not when her face feels like it’s on fire and Brian is still laughing as though all of this is so fucking amusing. Whilst still elbowing Brian, Daphne pleads, “There’s more to it, Jen, but I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I just don’t understand the…” Jen blushes and lapses into a bewildered silence.

Snickering, Brian suggests, “The mechanics of it?”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Daphne chants, but Brian’s laughter doesn’t die down one bit. Since he’s a lost cause, she turns back to Jen and says, “You would have to ask Justin about that. Now, can we please discuss something else?”

Clearly still lost in her own confused thoughts, Jen muses, “But he told the therapist…”

“Yes,” Daphne yelps, spying a convenient segue that might just get her out of explaining the ‘mechanics’ of her first time. She elbows Brian once more for good measure and - praise be - he actually shuts up this time. Now, hopefully, they can proceed with their lovely evening as planned. Daphne smiles at Jen and says encouragingly, “Tell us the therapist story. Let’s hear that one again.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne and Brian visit Justin in New York for a weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to theplotholesmademedoit, who kindly requested an update and in doing so inspired me :)
> 
> If you are interested in where this chapter (or others) fit into the overall chronology of this series, I've come up with a timeline of sorts: http://elissabens.tumblr.com/post/119073425195/in-quest-of-something-specific-chronology

“Oh my god,” Daphne says, sighing dreamily, “This is the best breakfast I’ve ever had. Like, _ever.”_

“Daph! How can you possibly be focused on breakfast right now?” Justin pulls a face and continues shoving his food around his plate sullenly. “I’ve completely lost my appetite.”

Daphne takes Justin’s hand and squeezes it, but it doesn’t put a stop to his sulking. Apparently the full story of Molly and her online ‘soul mate’ has traumatised Justin deeply. He’s so disturbed that he now seems totally oblivious to their gorgeous surroundings. Daphne keeps herself from worrying about Justin for a moment and takes it all in. Light is flowing through the suite’s floor-to-ceiling windows and filling the room. Breakfast is spread out over the coffee table; it’s a sumptuous array of fruit, pastries, waffles, French toast, juices, and coffee. Outside, New York is coming to life - Daphne can’t resist stealing glances out the window to her right to see what’s happening on the street below. She can see why Justin loves it here so much. It’s brimming with a certain kind of energy, something enlivening. Daphne can’t wait to see more of the city.

“Sorry about that,” Brian says as he comes striding back into the room. He snaps his phone shut and tucks it into his pocket. “Ted needed me.”

He flashes a smile at Daphne, then sits down next to Justin and kisses his temple. “You’re not still queening out over this, are you?”

“No,” Justin lies.

“He is,” Daphne supplies, smiling at Brian conspirationally.

He smiles back. “I figured.”

Justin rolls his eyes and takes a reluctant bite of his French toast. Through it, he mumbles, “She’s my baby sister. I’m allowed to be upset!”

“She’s not a baby anymore,” Brian says.

“She’s fifteen! That guy was twenty-one!” Justin shudders. “I don’t want to sound like a total hypocrite, but it’s seriously creepy and unimaginably wrong.”

After a beat, Brian smirks and snarks, “Hypocrite.”

Daphne bursts out laughing. This clearly doesn’t please Justin - he goes from scowling at Brian to scowling at her. “Daph, would you be so kind as to explain exactly what part of this is so fucking funny to you?”

Brian snorts. “The part where you’re a hypocrite, I’m guessing.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Daphne giggles, grinning at Brian.

“I get that it _sounds_ hypocritical, but come on.” Justin huffs and shakes his head. “There is a huge difference between us being together and Molly dating some creep she met online.”

“They’re not dating anymore,” Daphne points out. “Your parents made sure of that.”

“Good!” Justin winces. “Ugh, did I just agree with my father? This is so messed up!”

“Stop worrying about it,” Brian says, whilst slipping an arm around Justin. As he strokes Justin’s side gently, he continues reassuringly, “It’s over. Molly cut contact with the guy.”

Justin doesn’t look all that convinced. He chews on his lip for a few seconds, then cries out indignantly, “It’s just so sleazy! They met in some chat room!”

Daphne clears her throat. “Uh, Justin?”

He faces her with a mild frown. “Yeah?”

“You guys,” Daphne wags her finger between Brian and Justin, “Met on a street corner.”

“That was romantic!” Justin notices Brian snickering and elbows him. Then he pins Daphne with a look and accuses, “You’ve always said so yourself.”

“I do think it was romantic. But it’s all a matter of perception! There are plenty of people who would consider hooking up with some random guy on a street corner just as sleazy as a chat room hook-up.”

“Brian is _not_ ‘some random guy’,” Justin says sternly.

“I was that night,” Brian argues. “You didn’t know shit about me.”

“That’s an important distinction.” Daphne laughs and teases, “At least Molly took the time to get to know her guy. You jumped straight into bed with yours.”

“And it would seem that Molly asked Jennifer for her permission,” Brian adds. “Whereas _you_ were quite deceptive, Sunshine.”

“Yeah,” Daphne agrees, giggling. “Shame on you, Justin.”

Brian laughs and joins her in taunting Justin. “Such a deviant.”

Justin shakes his head wearily, although Daphne is sure he’s about to burst out laughing. It shines through in his voice as he asks, “Can we please talk about something else?”

With a grin, Brian teases, “Tired of the hot seat, huh?”

Justin ignores him and queries brightly, “What’s the plan for today? How long do I have you two for?”

“Until six,” Brian says. “Our flight leaves at half past seven.”

“Until six,” Justin echoes thoughtfully.

While he mulls over their potential plans, Daphne pours each of them another cup of coffee. Brian accepts his eagerly and thanks her. She smiles at him gratefully - _very_ gratefully, in fact. After way too much angsting about Justin’s absence, she and Brian resolved to stop sulking and actually take action. Brian booked them flights and a suite at Morgans for the weekend. Yesterday was spent hanging out at Justin’s studio during the day, then bar-hopping all night long. They’ve had little sleep, but Daphne couldn’t care less and she expects that Brian and Justin feel the same way.

“I know,” Justin says with a cheerful grin, “You can come to my art club!”

Brian wrinkles his nose. “Your… _art club?”_

Justin tilts his head and peers at Brian. “Could you say that any more disdainfully?”

Brian grins at him. “I could try.”

Justin laughs and smacks his arm. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Daphne exchanges a dubious glance with Brian. She narrows her eyes at Justin and queries suspiciously, “When you say ‘art club’...”

“We meet on Sundays at this gallery in Brooklyn. Every week we focus on something different - like a different theme or a different technique. Today we’ll be sketching.”

“Pass,” Daphne says instantly.

“That’s a hard pass,” Brian agrees.

Justin stares at them in disbelief. “Really? You won’t even give it a shot?”

“Like hell,” Brian scoffs, “Are we going to sit there like a couple of dunces while you and your _art club_ show off.”

“A lot of the people who come along are beginners! Besides, I’ve seen both of you draw - you’re pretty good.”

“You haven’t seen me draw since high school,” Daphne says. She recalls occasionally sketching with Justin when their schoolwork became tiresome, or during their breaks. Hers always paled in comparison to his.

“That wasn’t that long ago,” Justin points out, “And I always liked your sketches. And you-” he turns to Brian and asserts, “I’ve seen you sketch mock-ups at work. You’ve got a good eye for this stuff.”

He beams at them both hopefully. Daphne knows that smile all too well - it’s a dangerous one that she can’t ever resist. She suspects Brian won’t be able to, either.

Just as she had suspected, it only takes a few seconds for Justin to claim victory with his winning grin. Brian caves and agrees with a shrug, “Okay, we’ll go.”

“Awesome.” Justin kisses Brian’s cheek and then grins at Daphne. “You guys will love it, I promise.”

*

“So what are we drawing?” Brian glances sidelong at Justin and snarks, “A bowl of fruit?”

“Wait and see,” Justin says lightly, smiling as he sets up Daphne’s easel. Once he’s finished adjusting it, he hands her a sketchpad and a tin of pencils. “Trust me. I said you guys would love it and I meant that.”

As the gallery fills up with other artists, Daphne leans in and whispers to Justin, “And here I thought you hated other people.”

He grins and shrugs. “I still do. But this is different… they’re all in the same kind of situation as me. It’s nice to catch up with them and enjoy doing something creative without any pressure. The stuff we create here isn’t for display or sale or anything – it’s just ours to enjoy, plus it’s good practice.”

“Sounds pretty cool.” Daphne kisses his cheek. “You may need to cover for me, though. My sketching skills were questionable in high school; now they’re just downright rusty.”

“We should have brought Gus,” Brian says. “Or - even better! - J.R. That would balance things out nicely.”

“I don’t know why you two are being such wimps about this.” Justin ignores their indignant protests with a smirk, then reassures them breezily, “You’ll be fine!”

Brian leans around Justin so that he can faux-whisper to Daphne, “My first and foremost theory is that he’s developed a humiliation fetish.”

Daphne nods. “He’s getting off on our inferiority.”

“I am not!” Justin smacks Brian’s leg. “Get back in your seat.”

Predictably, Brian ignores this command and continues dangling out of his chair so he can whisper pet theories to Daphne. After the fourth one _(“he’s going to use our sketches as the ‘before’ and his as the ‘after’ to falsify an illustration of his journey to excellence”)_ , Justin gives up on trying to get Brian to behave. He stands up and manhandles Brian out of his seat, then switches their positions. “If you two want to whisper to each other like schoolchildren, you can sit together.”

“Yes, Mother Taylor,” Brian teases.

“Gross!” Justin gags. “Please don’t _ever_ call me that.”

Daphne laughs at the look of total horror on Justin’s face. “Hey, it could be worse.”

Sounding deeply sceptical, Justin asks, “What on earth could possibly be worse than my boyfriend calling me ‘Mother Taylor’?”

With a shrug, Daphne answers, “He could have called you ‘Father Taylor’.”

Brian bursts out laughing. Justin blanches and shudders dramatically.  _“Yeugh!_ Okay, point taken.”

“Morning, everyone!” A girl with turquoise hair comes marching into the centre of the group. Her hair is woven into a sea of skinny little braids, each of them finished with colourful beads and ribbons. She steps up onto the platform that they’re all seated around. “I’d like to welcome everyone…”

As she continues greeting the group, Brian leans over to whisper in Daphne’s ear, “Just so you know, you couldn’t pull that look off. Though, to be fair, nobody can.”

She regards him incredulously. “Are you keeping track of the looks I’m capable of pulling off?”

He eyes her salaciously and grins. “You’re pulling that look off.”

Daphne blushes and swats Brian’s arm. He looks like he’s about to make another flirtatious comment, but then he stops and stares over her shoulder, his eyebrows raised appreciatively. Daphne turns around and very nearly gasps.

An unbelievably gorgeous man is emerging from the gallery’s restrooms, wearing nothing but a towel which is loosely draped around his hips. As he saunters into the centre of the room, the turquoise-haired girl announces, “Everyone, meet Lucas. Lucas, everyone.”

Lucas scans the group quickly and offers them a small smile. Then, with a slight flourish, he discards the towel. Daphne’s jaw drops. She glances at Justin and mouths _wow_. He grins and remarks, “Like I’d drag you two all the way to Brooklyn to have you draw a bowl of fruit.”

Brian manages to tear his gaze away from Lucas for long enough to kiss Justin’s cheek. In a most appreciative tone, he murmurs, “I love you.”

“Damn right you do,” Justin replies cockily. He picks up his pencil. “Now get to work.”

Both Daphne and Brian comply immediately and pick up their pencils. Lucas is reclining on the platform on his back – his sculpted arms are stretched above his head; his long, tan legs are spread slightly, his eyes are closed and his long lashes are fanning over his cheeks. There’s nothing about him that isn’t beautiful – his skin is perfectly smooth and looks like it would be soft to touch, his hair falls in thick black waves, his lips are full and supple.

Of course, there are other features to which Brian is drawn.

“Brian,” Justin scolds through a burst of laughter, “You can’t start with his dick!”

“Sure I can,” Brian retorts defensively. He glances at Lucas then continues sketching. “What the hell else am I going to start with?”

“I mean, I can see the appeal.” Justin eyes Lucas admiringly. “It’s not the proper technique, that’s all.”

“Screw ‘proper technique’,” Brian says with a huge smirk. “It’s more fun this way.”

“This is actually a lot of fun,” Daphne notes. The turquoise-haired girl (who probably has a name, only Daphne can’t for the life of her recall it; it seems irrelevant, given that it isn’t ‘Lucas’) has started playing music and is handing out snacks. After accepting a handful of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Daphne turns to Justin and says, “I thought you artists preferred to gather in reverent silence.”

“Yeah,” Brian agrees. “And where are all the turtlenecks and berets?”

Justin smacks his arm. “Shut up or I’ll make _you_ wear a turtleneck and beret.”

“You wouldn’t be able to pull that off,” Daphne teases, to which Brian looks mortally offended. She hands him a couple of Peanut Butter Cups as a peace offering.

Suddenly, Lucas stretches. It catches the attention of everyone in the room; the chattering stops, a hush falls, and they all watch his body extend elegantly. Once Lucas’ tempting stretching is complete, Daphne peers over and steals a look at Justin’s sketch. Predictably, it’s utterly impeccable. Justin has managed to capture Lucas’ beauty perfectly. Daphne tosses a Peanut Butter Cup at him and chides, “Goddamnit, Justin – give the two of us a chance, won’t you?”

“It’s not a competition!” He looks over at hers and grins. “Daph, that’s awesome.”

She can’t help but preen for a moment. Daphne admires her handiwork - truth be told, it’s not all that bad. “‘Awesome’ is a bit of overkill, but thank you.”

Justin grins at her, then turns his attention to Brian’s sketch. Remarkably, Brian has extended his focus beyond Lucas’ cock and is sketching a rough outline of his long, muscular legs. Justin beams and kisses Brian’s shoulder. “See? You’re both really good.”

“‘Really good?’” Brian scoffs. “I’m fucking spectacular.”

“Of course you are, _darling.”_ Justin chuckles. “So… can I count you two in as converts?”

“If he’s going to be here,” Daphne and Brian say in unison. They exchange a bemused glance. Justin simply laughs and then returns to his masterpiece.

“I’ll fly in to make art club if he’ll be around,” Brian resolves with determination.

“Right there with you,” Daphne agrees. The three of them grin at each other and then happily return to sketching the spectacle that is Lucas.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick word of warning - this chapter delves into some dark territory. I was interested in exploring Daphne's experiences in medicine, particularly the challenging ones that might have thrown her a little. So just be warned, the subject matter here is quite dark as per the most recent tag.

_Daphne, it happens. It’s going to happen a lot. If you intend to remain in this line of work, then you’ll simply have to come to terms with it._

Daphne leaves her mother’s practice with the taste of ash on her tongue. It is a bitterness that has been with her all day, ever since _it_ happened.

She doesn’t falter. She doesn’t blink. She walks through the sterile halls of the office with her teeth clenched and her shoulders squared. She refuses to give any indication to anyone that she’s on the verge of breaking down.

Nobody here cares. Nobody. Not the nurses chatting near the stairwell, nor the doctors flitting by on their way to see patients.

Not even her own mother. But that’s nothing new.

Daphne slips into the elevator and hits the P button. It lights up, the doors close, and the descent begins. She holds herself together with steely resolve. Down, down, down. Down the elevator goes, numbers flashing along the way. 15, 14, 13, 12… then it halts, the doors slide open, and in step a man and his little boy.

“I hate the dentist,” the boy mopes, each and every word muffled. His cheeks are swollen and he’s holding a tissue to his mouth.

The dad shrugs at Daphne. She forces a smile back. The elevator continues its slow descent. When at last they reach the lobby, she watches the man and his son leave hand-in-hand. Daphne is reminded of Brian and Gus - and, in turn, Justin. The missing piece.

The ache in her chest grows sharper.

When the elevator doors open to the parking lot, she steps out hastily and strides towards her car. Her steely resolve is diminishing rapidly, lessening with every step she takes. She fumbles her car keys, almost dropping them, but she manages to regain a firm grasp on them. She clicks the button and her car unlocks.

Hallelujah.

Daphne flings open the door and throws herself inside. Her hands find the steering wheel blindly. The tears refuse to be held back any longer. With her hands gripping the wheel, desperate to keep ahold of _something,_ Daphne breaks down and cries.

*

Once she’s finished sobbing herself into oblivion, Daphne wipes her face clean and shoves the key into the ignition. As the engine rumbles to life, she breathes in and out slowly and steadily to calm herself.

She doesn’t know where to go. She knows where she wants to be, but New York is too far away. By the time she gets there, she’ll only have a few hours before it’s time to return to Pittsburgh. It’s pointless.

For a moment, Daphne feels a surge of outrage towards Justin. Why did he have to leave? Why can’t he be here with her?

She swallows that feeling and the questions it brings. They’re pointless.

Pointless, pointless, pointless. Everything feels so utterly pointless.

She considers seeking out Jen, but Daphne isn’t much in the mood to play pretend with someone else’s mother. Not when her own mother’s rejection is still fresh in her memory.

_You need to be stronger. You won’t last unless you grow a thicker skin._

‘A thicker skin’. Daphne’s lip curls at the thought. When she heard her mother say it, she wanted to fight back. She wanted to defend herself and tell her mother that her skin is already plenty thick, thank you very fucking much. But as is so often the case, her mother’s callousness blindsided her and rendered her silent.

Ahead, the lights turn red. As her car eases to a halt, Daphne wonders where she ought to go. Home, she supposes. That’s probably where she’s expected to go: home, to her apartment, to her coffee table crowded with textbooks and journals ready to be read. According to her parents, there’s little else worth doing. According to them, Daphne ought to devote almost every second of her existence to studying.

Well, fuck that. She may be craving home, but she’s not going to spend another miserable night studying obsessively. Tonight isn’t a night for study, nor for growing a thicker skin.

Tonight is a night to mourn, and mourn she fucking well will.

But first things first: Daphne drives to the market to pick up the necessary supplies. If she’s going to wallow, she’s going to do it right.

She wanders the aisles, filling her basket with a vast assortment of treats. Her mood picks up a little at the thought of snuggling into bed and spending the night with Mallomars and hot cocoa. And icecream. Icecream is a must.

Daphne heads to the freezer section and stares through the frosty glass doors. Her gaze gravitates to the shelves stacked with tubs of Ben and Jerry’s. As she’s debating which flavour (or, rather, flavours) to choose, someone comes and stands beside her. She doesn’t pay them any attention; she just opens the door and grabs a tub of Chubby Hubby.

“That is the stuff of nightmares,” the person beside her drawls in a wonderfully familiar voice.

A grin breaks out on Daphne’s face. She turns to face Brian, who is staring at the tub in utter repulsion.

“Shall I put it back?” She asks, smiling at him. “I wouldn’t want to keep you up at night.”

“You always keep me up at night,” Brian says with a lecherous grin.

To her great relief, Daphne bursts out laughing. She’s so glad - she was worried this morning that she’d lost the ability to laugh. She smacks Brian’s arm. “What are you doing here?”

He rolls his eyes. “According to Justin, people require food to function. He told me to go shopping or he’d sic Jennifer on me.”

“He’ll probably do it anyway,” Daphne says. “He’s evil like that.”

“I’m glad you see it. Nobody ever believes me.”

“It’s the whole blonde hair, blue eyes visage. People are easily fooled.”

Brian smiles and nods. “So what are you up to tonight?”

“Not much.” Daphne shrugs. “Drowning my sorrows in icecream and other such goodies.”

Brian frowns a little and regards her carefully. “Sorrows?”

She shrugs again and says simply, “Sorrows.”

It seems such a strange word to apply to the situation. It doesn’t do it justice. In fact, Daphne feels guilty for reducing it so. She swallows, hoping to fight the lump in her throat, but it does little good.

“Do you want some company?”

Brian’s offer catches her off-guard. She wonders if he realises that her ‘sorrows’ aren’t Justin-related; after all, isn’t Justin what they have in common?

Still, his offer is tempting. She always enjoys Brian’s company. And, truth be told, she doesn’t really want to be alone. Not tonight. Not after the day she’s had.

“I’d love that,” Daphne confesses. It brings a smile to Brian’s face, which in turn, makes her smile. She puts the tub of Chubby Hubby back in the freezer and picks out a different flavour - one which hopefully won’t traumatise Brian. Then, together, they head towards the registers.

*

They don’t talk about it. Brian doesn’t ask and Daphne doesn’t offer. She can barely think about it without cringing; she worries what might happen if she tried explaining it.

Instead of talking, they spend the evening watching movies. It’s nice to have a break, if only for a little while. Tomorrow, it will be back to reality – whatever that means. Up until this morning, Daphne had believed she had a firm grasp on reality. She had thought she had a fairly thick skin. Now her certainty is wavering. It feels flimsy. She worries about what tomorrow will bring; will it help to reinstate her certainty, or will it diminish it further?

She can’t think about that right now. She can’t bear to. It’s all too much, wondering about things beyond her control. So Daphne turns her attention away from all of that and focuses on the present moment.

Beside her, Brian is starting to fade. He looked tired when they met in the store and now, hours later, he looks exhausted. As he does a poor job of stifling a yawn, Daphne nudges him with her foot and says, “You can stay here tonight.”

He looks at her as if to check if she’s sure. She smiles at him and shrugs. “You shouldn’t drive if you’re this tired.”

“Thanks, mom,” Brian snarks, a slight grin curling across his face. Still, he reclines back and relaxes. He blinks once, twice, thrice – slowly, like he’s about to drift off.

Daphne wonders what it is that’s made him so tired. She suspects it’s some medley of being overworked and having his partner and son in two totally different places. She can certainly sympathise – being overworked has become the norm for her, as has missing Justin. She misses Gus, too – it’s been far too long since she saw him, other than in photos that Brian occasionally shares with her.

Or is it something else? Is there some other thing plaguing Brian tonight?

That’s probably wishful thinking. It’s admittedly wishful thinking of a sinister variety; Daphne realises that. She’s so burdened that she’s looking for someone to share it with. But she’s conflicted – even though she wishes there were someone who could understand, she wouldn’t actually want Brian to have something else to battle with. He’s been through enough lately.

She’ll have to go this alone.

After all, her mother was right. This may have been the first instance, but it won’t be the last. If she’s going to work in medicine, she’ll be exposed to this again. She may be exposed to worse. And though Daphne knows she _could_ spill to Brian, or Jen, or Justin, she doesn’t really want to. She doesn’t even know where to begin.

Where would she begin?

The sobs that Daphne heard as she walked from the nurses’ station to the girl’s room? How they flooded the halls? How the nurses were worried she might wake the patients who were still sleeping at such an early hour?

The sobs would be a good place to start. Right now, as Daphne recalls them, they begin to sound in her mind. Over and over they play as she recalls the rest: the bruises and cuts disfiguring the girl’s face, disguising her features. Daphne wonders what she might look like without them. She wonders what the girl looked like before and what she’ll look like once they’ve healed.

‘The girl’. That’s what Dr. Freedman called her behind her back. Just ‘the girl’, nothing more.

Sometimes Daphne wonders about the humanity of people like her mother and Dr. Freedman, who seem so very willing to strip patients of their identities, their lives, their meaning. ‘The girl’ was merely a rape victim to Dr. Freedman. A patient, not a person. A chart, a set of problems to be solved.

Daphne doesn’t know how to think of her. She knows that the girl’s name is Angelica. She knows that Angelica is eighteen years old. She knows that Angelica has been scarred by what was done to her, and not just physically.

Today, Daphne bore witness to all sorts of scars. She feels as though her eyes have been opened – forcibly so. They’ve been clawed open, and clawed open they will stay.

_Daphne, it happens. It’s going to happen a lot._

Harsh, but true. This is the path that Daphne has chosen. Today it was Angelica being admitted after a vicious assault, left seriously injured and severely traumatised; tomorrow it will be some other patient with a different story. Daphne’s friends have been through the wringer themselves: Chelsea is struggling through her paediatrics rotation after having lost a handful of patients, all under the age of seven; Grace is still coming to terms with the gravity of working in a field like neurology.

None of it is easy. There are good moments, rewarding glimmers… but right now, they have all faded from Daphne’s consciousness. All she can think of is Angelica, bruised and battered, verging on hysteria as she was examined and treated. In the end, they had to sedate her. Daphne was the one to do it. She watched Angelica fade into unconsciousness, her marred face going slack, her body slumping and going limp.

Daphne wonders how she’s doing now. She supposes that she’ll find out come morning, when she’s due back for another rotation. She wonders if she’ll be ready to face it.

_If you intend to remain in this line of work, then you’ll simply have to come to terms with it._

What does it mean to ‘come to terms’ with this sort of stuff? How did her mother manage it?

How will she?

The sad truth is that there aren’t answers to those questions – not right now. Daphne can recall all sorts of advice given, but right now none of it sticks. She’s too consumed with concern for Angelica. It seems to occupy every fibre of her being. Part of her wishes she had stayed to see Angelica through the night. Then again, Daphne isn’t convinced that she could have handled it. Her skin may be thick, but perhaps it isn’t thick enough. Not yet.

As the lump in her throat grows larger and heavier, Daphne wonders if it might help to tell Brian. She knows that he’ll listen – he’s good at that sort of thing. She doesn’t trust herself, though. She’s scared that she’ll give in and break down. She can’t have that. She really can’t.

She thinks that she could trust Brian with it but she doesn’t want to subject him to it. He has enough to worry about without hearing her angst about what happened.

And what did happen? Daphne tries to imagine it. She tries to imagine how she’d explain it to him.

_I treated my first rape victim today._

_She was only eighteen._

_I’ve never seen anyone so distraught, not even Justin, not even when…_

_It broke my heart. It really did._

All things she could say. Some of them, she said to her mother. She didn’t confess to her broken heart and she didn’t talk about Justin. There are lines drawn that Daphne daren’t cross. She doesn’t know when those lines were drawn or where they came from, but they’re there, and there’s a sense of permanence to them. They can’t be undone.

How strange, that she feels more faith in her best friend’s boyfriend, than her own mother. 

It seems wrong. Daphne almost feels guilty for it, but she swiftly discards that feeling. Why feel guilt? She tried going to her mother with her concerns about Angelica and was essentially told to grow up and get over it. She gained nothing from that interaction other than an increased feeling of distance and resentment. Whereas Brian… without even trying, he’s made her feel better. He’s made her laugh and smile. He’s helped her to feel safe and sure once more. 

She ought to thank him for that.

“Brian?”

“Hmm?” He stirs and looks at her. “Yeah?”

Daphne can’t think of what to say. When she tries and fails to come up with anything, she simply smiles at him. She hopes – no, she knows – that Brian will understand.

He does. He smiles back in a way that makes Daphne feel completely sure of his understanding.

That’s something.

Actually, that’s more than something. Today, especially, it means a hell of a lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne and Brian take Gus out for a day of fun. At least, that was the plan.

“Daddy,” Gus whinges, “I don’t like it here.”

Daphne stifles a laugh as she watches Brian stifle a sigh. She feels for him, she really does. As Gus comes sulking towards them with a huge pout on his face, she nudges his knee with hers as a sign of solidarity.

When Gus throws himself down into the spare seat at the table, Brian points out, “You wanted to come here. You begged me to bring you.”

“But I don’t like it.”

“You said you loved it here. You said it was your favourite place in all of Pittsburgh.”

“Nuh-uh! I did not!”

“Uh, yeah, you _did.”_

As the debate continues to go around in circles, it becomes blatantly obvious that they’re both as stubborn as each other. Daphne decides to try to intervene. She sets down her cup of cheap coffee, smiles at Gus, and asks, “What don’t you like about it?”

Gus slumps in his seat and folds his arms across his chest, then commences scowling around the Play Castle. “It’s no fun.”

“Kiddo,” Brian says, “When you asked me to take you here, you said it would be ‘the most fun ever’.”

“But it isn’t!” Gus scrunches his face up. “It’s the most not-fun ever.”

Brian gives Daphne a look that bleeds desperation. She smiles sympathetically at him, then turns to Gus. “It looks pretty fun to me. Have you tried the tunnel slides? Or the climbing wall?”

“No,” Gus retorts. In a truly tragic tone, he angsts, “I don’t wanna.”

It’s clear that Gus has experienced a huge change of heart since this morning, when he apparently woke Brian up at the crack of dawn and started begging to be taken to the Play Castle. Since Brian refused to set foot in the place alone, Daphne was recruited to join the two of them for ‘the bestest day ever’ - Gus’ very enthusiastic words, which were accompanied by much merriment during the forty minute drive to the centre. Upon their arrival, Gus rushed through removing his shoes and throwing on one of the identifying armbands so that he could bolt into the playground - practically at the speed of light.

With Gus vanished, Brian and Daphne took up residence in the godawful cafe overlooking the playground. It’s currently jam-packed with mothers and strollers. They’ve suffered through crying babies, ill-tempered mothers, luke-warm and piss-weak coffees, all within the cafe’s tediously technicolour interior, all in the name of giving Gus the day of fun he was so keen for.

Now, only half an hour later, he’s changed his tune. Daphne is determined to find out why. “Why don’t you want to?”

Gus gives her the most mournful look imaginable. “I want you and Daddy to come play.”

“Sorry, kiddo.” Brian points to one of the many signs on the wall where the rules are posted. “You’re too old to have a parent on the playground.”

“Daphne’s not a parent!”

“Daphne’s a grown-up and that still counts.”

“But. I. Don’t. Have. Anyone. To. Play. With!”

Now it seems that they’re getting to the heart of the issue. Daphne reaches over and pats Gus’ shoulder. “Is it a bit lonely on the playground?”

“It’s the most loneliest I’ve ever been,” he mumbles into his hands. “In ever and ever and ever.”

“Poor Gussy.” Daphne squeezes his shoulder. “So why don’t you try to make a new friend?”

Brian nods. “There’s an idea, kiddo.”

Unfortunately, it’s not an idea that impresses Gus. He slumps even further in his seat and sulks, “What’s the point? I can’t stay friends when I go back to Toronto.”

“The point is you could have some fun with them today,” Brian says, whilst giving Gus a look.

The look does absolutely no good. Gus scowls and mumbles, “Don’t wanna.”

The kid’s stubborn streak is staggeringly strong. Even so, Daphne isn’t willing to give in just yet. She gives Gus her best smile and suggests, “Then why not play on your own? That’s probably way more fun anyways. You could make up your own games.”

For a few seconds, Gus stares at her. Then he looks at Brian. Then back to her. All the while, he seems totally disillusioned with the both of them. Then he picks himself up and storms back towards the playground.

“Christ,” Brian mutters. “All I’ve heard since 5am is how magnificent this place is, and now he wants to bail?”

“Give him time.” Daphne glances through the window overlooking the playground and watches as Gus clambers up the rainbow climbing structure. He still has a scowl on his face, but at least he’s giving it a go. “You bought an all-day pass… I say stick to it and see what he can make of it.”

“An all-day pass…” Brian sighs wearily. “What the fuck was I thinking?”

“Language,” snaps a mother passing with her stroller. When Brian glares at her, she simply glares back. Then she hisses at Daphne, “You shouldn’t let him get away with that. It’s a horrid example for your little boy.”

As she flounces off, Daphne bursts out laughing. Brian is quick to follow.

Mildly horrified, she asks, “Do I really look old enough to be Gus’ mom?”

“No,” Brian laughs, shaking his head. “Trust me, you don’t.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else - something very cutting about the self-righteous mother, Daphne suspects, and she’s quite keen to hear it - but then Gus makes an alarmingly unexpected reappearance. It’s hard to even tell where he came from; there are about four different pathways from the playground to the cafe, which makes it dicey territory when paired with Gus’ innate sneakiness.

He jumps back into the seat in between them and asks curiously, “How old were you when I was a baby, Daphne?”

She’s about to answer when Brian ruffles Gus’ hair and prompts, “Do your math and figure it out.”

Gus sticks up his hand and counts backwards using his fingers. “... eighteen.”

“Almost,” Daphne says with a smile. “I was seventeen. Good counting, Gussy.”

He beams at her. “I’m getting better at it all the time.”

Brian leans in and kisses his cheek. “Good boy. So how’s the playground treating you?”

“Okay, I s’pose. I came up with a game to play. Only I wish I had someone to play it with, but I don’t like any of the kids here.”

Daphne and Brian exchange a look. Part of Daphne fears that Gus has run into some bad behaviour on the playground. From the look on Brian’s face, it’s clear he fears the same.

With a strong trace of suspicion, Brian asks, “Why don’t you like them?”

Gus shrugs. “I don’t know. I just don’t.”

Then, quick as a shot, he’s off again. Brian shakes his head as he watches Gus tear through the cafe and out into the playground. “I don’t know how the munchers do this all day long. I feel like I’ve aged five years in the last five hours.”

“You don’t look it.” Daphne grins at Brian. “You look so happy when you’re with him.”

Brian shrugs and smiles a little. “He’s a good kid.”

Suddenly, Gus makes yet another unexpected return to protest, “You said yesterday that J.R. was a ‘good kid’.”

“Yes,” Brian says carefully, “I did.”

“She is a good kid,” Daphne agrees.

Gus narrows his eyes at the both of them. “If J.R. is a ‘good kid’, that makes me something different. Great or fantastic or ahhhh-mazing.”

Brian reaches over and scoops Gus up. He pulls him into his lap and hugs him, then warns, “Go easy on your sister. I meant what I said - she _is_ a good kid.”

This clearly doesn’t please Gus. He huffs and twists out of Brian’s arms, then goes running out of the cafe again. Daphne tries to keep an eye on him, but Gus soon vanishes into a tunnel. Where he goes from there is anybody’s guess.

Since Gus is _hopefully_ out of earshot, Daphne says, “He’s really not letting up on the sibling rivalry, is he?”

“He really isn’t.” Brian sighs. “It’s been non-stop all week. That’s why I’ve had him at the loft the past few nights… I think he needs some time away from her. Mikey thinks I’m spoiling him or reinforcing the rivalry or whatever, but maybe if Gus has a break from her he’ll lighten up a bit.”

“It can’t be fun,” Daphne muses. “I mean, J.R.’s adorable, but she’s still a baby. Five-year-olds tend not to get the appeal.”

“There is _no_ appeal,” Gus announces forcefully. Daphne jumps and turns around to find him standing right behind her. She has no idea how he got there so surreptitiously - did he teleport?!

Gus climbs into her lap and mopes, “She cries all the time and she makes messes and last Thursday she threw up on me.”

“Babies do that,” Brian says. “I know it’s rough, kiddo, but it’s just how it goes.”

“Nuh-uh,” Gus retorts. “I never did that.”

He doesn’t look very pleased when Daphne and Brian both start laughing.

“You sure did,” Brian says. He smiles at Gus and teases, “You cried all night long, you made nightmarish messes, and you ruined at least three of my shirts.”

Gus looks utterly stricken. “I did not!”

Brian grins at him. “Did so.”

“I’m sorry.” Gus pouts at Brian and bats his eyelashes. “I didn’t mean to.”

Brian waves his hand. “No apology needed.”

Gus jumps out of Daphne’s lap and into his own seat. He props his elbows on the orange table-top and places his chin in his hands. “Except not all babies are like that. Sam has a baby brother and he sleeps all night and he doesn’t do throw-ups.”

With a shrug, Brian concedes, “Some babies are different. Your sister isn’t like that - you just have to accept that, Sonny Boy.”

“Maybe if I had a baby brother…” Gus glances at Brian with a gleam in his eyes. “Daddy…?”

“Nope.”

The speed at which that ‘nope’ leaves Brian’s mouth almost makes Daphne cackle. She bites the inside of her cheek as Gus protests, “But Daddy!”

Brian shakes his head firmly. “Sorry, kiddo, no dice.”

“Daddy, please!”

It’s such a struggle not to laugh at Gus’ indignant pleas. Daphne purses her lips and tries to contain it as she listens to Gus beg for a baby brother as though he were asking for a new toy or a piece of candy.

“You and Jus could have a baby!”

“Remember the talk you had with your moms? About how it doesn’t work like that for two men or two women?”

“But _Daddy!”_

“Sorry, kiddo. I can’t defy biological realities.” Brian grabs his wallet out of his pocket and fishes out a twenty. “Go and choose us something for lunch.”

Gus snatches the money eagerly and leaps out of his seat, but then he pauses and eyes the snack counter warily. “All on my own?”

“Give it a go.” Brian ruffles his hair again. “I know you can do it.”

“Okay…” Gus doesn’t seem all that convinced, but off he goes anyway. There’s a spark of resolve in his gaze as he marches towards the counter, money in hand.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Brian groans. “He’d better get the idea about having a kid brother out of his head.”

“Are Mel and Linds planning on having any more?”

“I don’t think so.” Brian wrinkles his nose. “ _I’m_ certainly not. And as far as I know, ‘Jus’ doesn’t want that, either.”

“Don’t worry.” Daphne gives her watery coffee another try (which she immediately regrets) and shrugs. “It didn’t seem like a serious suggestion.”

“Let’s hope not.” Brian glances over towards the snack counter, where Gus is grappling with a tray stacked full of food and drinks. “Back in a sec.”

Daphne watches as he jumps up and hurries to help Gus. Brian picks up the packed tray with one hand, hoists Gus up with the other, then carries both back to the table. 

As Brian sets a giggling Gus down in his seat, he asks, “What’s on the menu, kiddo?”

“Fruit salads and ‘tato chips and peach teas.” Gus beams and starts divvying up their lunches. “And guess what?”

In unison, Daphne and Brian ask, “What?”

As proud as proud can be, Gus announces, “Daphne’s a girl!”

Brian grins at Daphne, then pokes Gus’ stomach and teases, “You think?”

The smile slips off Gus’ face. It’s quickly replaced with a surly frown. “Daddy, don’t do sarcasm at me.”

“Sorry.” Brian laughs and ruffles his hair. “What’s this about Daphne being a girl?”

“Yeah…” Daphne peers at Gus. The dangerous gleam is back in his eyes, which surely means this conversation is going no place good. “What’s this all about?”

“You could have a baby with her!”

Well, fuck. Apparently her estimation that the conversation was going ‘no place good’ was too generous. Daphne eyes the many exits leading from the cafe into the playground and tries to figure out the best escape route.

Brian grins at Gus and then angles a look at Daphne. Oh so flirtaciously, he says, “Now _there’s_ an idea.”

“It’s a real good idea,” Gus enthuses. He nods his head in five fast, adamant bounces. “You’d be a nice mommy, Daphne, and you could give me a baby brother. I bet he’d be lots of fun and very pretty.”

“Thanks,” Daphne says uneasily. She’s so thrown by Gus’ suggestion that she’s at a loss as to what else to say.

Fortunately, Brian has her covered.

“And what if our baby ends up crying and making messes and throwing up?” Brian arches an eyebrow at Gus. “What then?”

Gus frowns and takes a sip of his iced tea. As he fiddles with the curly straw, he proposes, “Then Jus could have a try.”

“Ah.” Brian smirks and shakes his head at Daphne, then pokes Gus’ tummy. “And what exactly makes you think that _Justin,_  of all people,would produce a better behaved baby?”

“I dunno.” Gus pushes his tea aside and makes a grab for his fruit salad. “It’s worth a try.”

As he starts shovelling down mouthfuls of fruit, Brian turns his attention to Daphne again and purrs, “Shall we give it a shot?”

“Thanks,” Daphne laughs, “But no thanks.”

Gus whips around and angles a woeful expression at her. “Why not?”

“Because she’s not a brood mare,” Brian snarks. He reaches over and strokes Gus’ hair gently. “And you need to make do with the sibling you have.”

Gus groans and flails backwards in his chair. As he starts to whine, Brian mouths the words at Daphne in perfect unison. “I don’t wanna!”

“Sorry, Gussy.” Daphne pats his shoulder again. She wonders for a moment if she should be honest with him. He is only five years old… but equally, he’s a five-year-old that’s full of intrigue. There’s no point delaying the inevitable – either she ‘fesses up now, or she ‘fesses up when he hits her with a barrage of questions. “Uh, I don’t really think I want to have babies.”

Gus sighs and nods. “‘Cause of J.R., huh?”

“No,” Daphne says sternly. “Like we were saying before, she’s a good kid. If I _were_ going to have a baby, I’d be lucky to have one as lovely as her.”

Gus huffs and scowls at his fruit salad. As he jams a slice of apple into his mouth, Brian says, “Not everyone wants to be a parent, kiddo.”

“But you’d be a real good mom,” Gus says through his mouthful of apple. He gives Daphne a very appley smile. “I know you would.”

“Thanks, sweetie.” Daphne beams at him. “That’s nice of you to say. But I still don’t want to.”

“Mind that the-” Brian jerks his head towards the disapproving mom they encountered earlier, who has returned to her place two tables over, and semi-whispers, “B-I-T-C-H doesn’t hear. We wouldn’t want to scandalise her more than we already have.”

“Daddy!” Gus’ eyes widen and then narrow in quick succession. “I _know_ what those letters spell.”

Incredulously, Brian asks, “How do _you_ know what those letters spell?”

“I just do. I know what lots of letters spell.” Gus picks up a slice of green apple and hands it to Brian. “Trade you for a strawberry?”

“Deal.” Brian plucks a strawberry out of his own fruit salad and they make an exchange. 

“Do you want one of mine, too?” Daphne offers her cup to Gus and lets him take one of the strawberries. She smiles at him as he replaces it with a couple of grapes. “Thanks.”

“That’s okay. Except…” Gus purses his lips. “I don’t know what a ‘brood mare’ is.”

“It means Daphne doesn’t exist to provide you with baby brothers,” Brian explains. “She doesn’t want babies, so she’s not going to have any.”

Then he smirks at her and adds, “No matter how fun it might be.”

Daphne grins and kicks him under the table.  

“And you’re real sure?” Gus flutters his eyelashes at Daphne. “Real, _real_ sure?”

“Yes,” Daphne resolves. “Now, why don’t you tell us about the game you invented?”

“Yeah.” Brian smiles encouragingly at Gus. “Go on, kiddo.”

Gus beams at them. “Okay… it goes like this…”

As he leads into an extensive explanation of his game, Daphne and Brian tune in. It’s a relief to see the discussion divert from her parental prospects – or, in all honesty, lackthereof. It’s also a hell of a lot of fun, listening to Gus weave a tale of a kingdom populated with all manner of creatures, of which he is the hero. As he talks them through the landscape of the kingdom, which is fashioned from the rainbow interior of the Play Castle, it becomes apparent that Gus has rediscovered his passion for the place. Daphne glances at Brian and they exchange a look - it’s one of relief (that Gus is back on track for his much-desired day of fun) and resignation (that they’ll be stuck here for the rest of the day).

There are worse fates, though. Even with the technicolour surroundings, and the clusters of shrieking babies, and the questionable coffee… it’s not all that bad. Not so long as Gus is having a good time, and not so long as they have each other for company.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne is invited to the family dinner, but it turns out there's a surprise or two in store.

_Hi Daphne, this is Gus. Gus Peterson-Marcus-Kinney. Daddy told me to call you and invite you to dinner.  
We’re having lasagna at Uncle Mikey’s. Daddy said dinner starts at seven. Please be here. Okay, bye._

The voicemail from Gus is like a ray of sunshine at the end of what has been a very storm-stricken day. Daphne lights up as soon as she hears it. Suddenly, she doesn’t feel so tired anymore. She cancels her original plans – which were to go to Grace’s, have a glass or two of wine, and pass out on the couch by 9pm. Instead, she grabs her bag from her locker, heads to her car, and drives across town to Michael and Ben’s place.

Things have been so busy that she’d honestly forgotten that Mel and Linds would be visiting this weekend with Gus and J.R. Such is life, lately – Daphne can barely keep track of anything. Now that she thinks about it, she does remember Brian mentioning something. The details are fuzzy but there’s a vivid memory of his face lighting up, the way it always does when he speaks of his son. It’s one of her favourite things about Brian. Even better, tonight she’ll get to see him _with_ Gus. That will be a real treat. 

When Daphne arrives at Michael and Ben’s, she spots Brian on the stoop smoking. He doesn’t notice her approaching; he seems lost in his thoughts. Daphne takes the end of her scarf and bats him with it, then laughs as he starts.

“Hey,” she says. “Long day?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe. What brings you to these parts?”

“Uh, you invited me to dinner…?”

“I did?”

“Well, Gus said you did… he called me earlier and left a voicemail.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me that dinner was on at ‘Uncle Mikey’s’ and that you said I was invited.”

“Huh.” Brian frowns. He looks utterly bewildered.

Immediately, Daphne blushes and takes a step backwards. “Sorry. I should-”

“No,” Brian says quickly. He grabs her wrist. “Stay. You’re more than welcome.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He takes another drag of his cigarette and then offers it to her. As she accepts it gladly, Brian smirks and remarks, “The scrubs are hot.”

Daphne glances down at them - they’re her favourite pair, the navy blue ones - and admits with a laugh, “I didn’t have anything to change into. I hope that’s okay.”

He shrugs and pulls himself up off the stoop. “It’s fine.”

There’s something strange about Brian tonight. It takes Daphne a moment to place it; it’s that there’s a hint of hollowness to the way he’s talking and a vacancy in his expression. She touches his arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay?”

Brian forces a smile, but it fades quickly. He looks incredibly tired as he shakes his head and mutters, “I’m tired of being told how to father my kid.”

“You don’t need to be told,” Daphne says. She drops the spent cigarette and grinds it under her shoe. “You’re a great dad.”

At that, Brian’s smile reappears - it looks genuine this time. He leans in, kisses her forehead, then murmurs, “Thanks.”

From inside, a holler sounds: “Brian, Gus - dinner’s ready!”

Following Michael’s call is an urgent shout from Gus: “Is Daphne here yet?”

“We’re being summoned,” Brian chuckles. He loops his arm around her and they head up the stoop and inside.

Brian shows her to the dining room, where everyone is waiting except for Gus.

“Daphne,” Ben says with a smile. “We didn’t know we were expecting you until just now. It’s great to see you.”

“Gus invited her,” Brian says.

Daphne smiles at everyone and adds, “Of his own accord, it would seem.”

“Never mind that. We’ve missed you, honey.” Lindsay comes and gives her a hug. “How have you been?”

Whilst trying to ignore the persistent ache in her feet and lower back, Daphne shrugs and lies, “Pretty good.”

Stressed, tired, achey, and ravenously hungry are also fitting answers, but she’s not going to admit to that right now. 'Pretty good' is good enough.

With a teasing smile directed at Brian, Mel asks, “Are you angsting after Justin as much as this one is?”

Before Daphne can answer with a very adamant _yes, goddamnit, you have no idea_ , the sound of Gus thundering down the stairs distracts everyone. As his footfalls echo through the house, he calls out, “Daphne? Are you here?”

“I’m here,” she calls back.

Seconds later, Gus comes rushing into the room and into her arms. For some reason, he’s wearing his puffy coat over his pyjamas and slippers, plus a set of fuzzy earmuffs. He hugs her with all his might and then announces, “We’re not staying for dinner. We’re leaving.”

The smile drops from Mel’s face. “Excuse me?”

“I’m running away,” Gus announces. He pulls out of Daphne’s arms and throws a filthy look at almost everyone in the room, bar Brian. “Daphne’s taking me away from all of you.”

Staggered, Daphne asks, “I’m _what?”,_ just as Michael demands, “She’s _what?”_

“You’re taking me away,” Gus says. He stares up at her with a doe-eyed gaze that’s utterly heart-wrenching. “I don’t wanna be here no more.”

Then he grabs her hand and holds onto it tight as he faces up to everyone else again. “Goodbye to you all. It’s been a little bit nice but also not so nice knowing you.”

“Hold on a minute,” Michael says. “Gus, you’re not going anywhere. Daphne, did you know about this?”

Brian scoffs and looks at Michael incredulously. “Seriously? Did you seriously just ask her if she knew? What, do you think this is a premeditated runaway slash kidnapping?”

“Daddy!” Gus huffs and thrusts his hand out, which puts a stop to the glaring that’s going on between Brian and Michael. “Stop your squabbling and come on!”

The surprise that registers on Brian’s face is nothing short of adorable. He soon looks very pleased with himself as he asks, “I’m invited, am I?”

Gus sighs and shakes his head. “What did you think? That I was gonna leave you here? Don't be silly, Daddy. You’re coming with us!”

“Well.” Brian grins and heads over to them. As he takes Gus’ hand, he agrees smugly, “Let’s go, then.”

“Have a nice life,” Ben says with a smile, whilst clearly trying to hide his laughter.

“We wish you all well,” Mel adds, seeming similarly amused.

“Thank you,” Gus responds loftily. Then he looks around and sighs. “Hold on, I forgot my bindle!”

He lets go of Daphne and Brian’s hands and goes bolting upstairs in search of it.

Brian snorts and queries, “He has a _bindle?”_

Lindsay shrugs. “It’s actually just his backpack, but when he uses it to run away it’s suddenly called his bindle.”

Looking alarmed, Michael asks, “This has happened before?”

“He got the idea from a TV show,” Mel explains, rolling her eyes. “Some bullshit kid thing that totally romanticised the concept. He’s threatened to leave about five times in the past three weeks. He’s only actually done it once - we had Jamie from next door follow and keep an eye on him. He only went to the park for half an hour to have a play. Then he came right back because he found it to be ‘unseasonable’.”

Daphne glances out the window at the snow that’s falling. “And this is ‘seasonable’?”

Lindsay shrugs. “I’m guessing that’s why he’s going with you - so the conditions will be cushier.”

“Are you actually going to let him leave?” Michael looks most concerned. “Isn’t that sending a bad message?”

“We’ve been told to let it run its course,” Mel explains. “Once he gets it out of his system, we’ll all be happier for it. When he comes back, we’ll have a good talk about it.”

“Honestly, we couldn’t have asked for better circumstances,” Lindsay says, smiling fondly at Daphne and Brian. “He’s running away with his father and a doctor. He’ll be perfectly safe with you two.”

The conversation halts as Gus comes thumping down the stairs again. He races into the room and latches on to Daphne and Brian again. “Let’s _go.”_

He tries tugging them out of the room but stops when Lindsay calls his name. He turns around and scowls at her, but his moody expression falters when Lindsay smiles and asks, “Can I have one last kiss?”

Mel opens her arms. “Me too?”

Gus lets go of Daphne and Brian and slinks on over. He collapses into Mel’s arms and stays there for a good thirty seconds, then rushes to Lindsay for a whole lot of cuddles and kisses.

“We love you,” Mel says.

“We love you so much,” Lindsay agrees. “To the end of the world and back, baby. And even though we know you want to leave, we hope we’ll see you again.”

“Sorry, Mommy,” Gus says. He pulls away and squares his shoulders. “But you won’t. This is the last time you’ll ever see me, _ever.”_

“Oh well.” Lindsay sighs. “Have a good life, treasure.”

“You too,” Gus mumbles. Then he rushes at Brian and clambers up into his arms. In a small voice that's trying to be commanding, he says, “Daddy, get me out of here.”

Brian scoops Gus into a secure embrace. “You’re the boss, kiddo. Let’s go start our new life.”

Once they’re outside, Gus squirms out of Brian’s arms and makes a beeline for Daphne’s car.

“Kiddo,” Brian calls, “Let me drive. Daphne’s just finished a long shift at the hospital.”

Gus turns and peers at Brian, then glances at Brian’s car.

“Daddy, your car is… not so practical.” Gus waves his hand at it dismissively. He ignores Brian’s offended expression and announces, “We’ll take Daphne’s car.”

Then he grabs the straps of his ‘bindle’, pulls them tight around his shoulders, and goes marching down the drive.

Daphne laughs. “So I guess we’re taking Daphne’s car.”

Brian sighs a little and shrugs at her. “Want me to drive?”

“Would you?”

Brian nods and grins when she tosses him the keys. As he unlocks the car and they all get in, Brian asks, “So where are we headed?”

“To Daphne’s,” Gus says. Then, after a beat, he adds, “Is that okay, Daphne?”

“Normally it would be…” Daphne turns around in her seat to face him, “Except there’s work being done on the kitchen. I’ve been staying with Grace and she doesn’t really have room for all of us.”

“Then maybe the loft?”

Brian shakes his head at Gus’ suggestion. “Not tonight.”

“Oh.” Gus pouts. “Then where are we gonna go?”

“I guess we’ll have to sleep in the car,” Brian muses with a smirk. “Live it rough for a while, huh, kiddo?”

“If that’s what we have to do.” Gus stares out the window for a bit, then he brightens and suggests, “We should go live with Jus!”

“I’m not letting you in that apartment,” Brian says, shaking his head adamantly. “You’ll get smallpox.”

Gus’ eyes widen in alarm. “What’s a smallpox?”

“Something that’s not really a thing anymore,” Daphne laughs, swatting Brian’s arm.

“It is in that place,” Brian snarks. Then he glances briefly back at Gus and says, “Besides, kiddo, we’re not crossing state lines. The situation isn’t that dire.”

“But Daddy-”

“The answer is no.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

The engine starts with a dull rumble and Brian starts reversing out. As he pulls onto the street, Daphne takes a look at the backpack Gus is clutching to his chest. “What’ve you got there?”

“Supplies.” Gus gazes down at the seemingly precious cargo and then thrusts it towards her. “Wanna see?”

“Sure.” She takes it and unzips it carefully. “Wow, Gussy - you’ve got some good loot here.”

Brian glances over. “What’s in there?”

Daphne starts rifling through the supplies. “Crackers, a water bottle-”

“It’s important to hydrate,” Gus supplies sagely.

Beside her, Brian snorts softly. Daphne tries to keep from laughing as she continues, “A few picture books, a teddy bear-”

“My Gus teddy from Jus.” Gus holds his hands out. “May I have him, please?”

“Of course.” Daphne passes him the teddy and gives him a big smile. Gus grins back and hugs the teddy against his tummy. “A juice box - more hydration, I see - a comb, a scarf, and… aw, Gussy. A picture of your moms.”

“To remember them by,” Gus says softly. He stares down at his teddy and swallows.

“Kiddo…” Brian gazes at him in the rear-view mirror. “We can go back.”

“No.” Gus shakes his head firmly. “Don’t wanna.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Um, except… I didn’t pack supplies for you two.”

Brian assumes a look of utter horror. “You mean I don’t have my own bindle?”

Gus takes no notice of his father’s teasing and pleads, “Let’s stop for supplies. You two need supplies. Look, over there! We can go to the market.”

“Okay.” Brian gives Daphne a look and pulls the car into the parking lot. “Let’s go to the market.”

*

At the market, Daphne walks the aisles with Gus, hand-in-hand, in dogged pursuit of ‘supplies’. So far, they have accrued Oreos, three bottles of peach tea, a punnet of strawberries, and a bag of potato chips. The essentials, basically.

As they head into the aisle containing cosmetics and toiletries, Daphne steers Gus towards the dental hygiene section and asks him to choose three toothbrushes. The task proves compelling - Gus starts chattering about the different colours and branding at length. While together they debate about who gets which toothbrush, Daphne notices Brian lagging behind. He’s on his cell; she tunes in as best she can and overhears him making a reservation. As Gus hands her three carefully selected toothbrushes, she makes a mental note to ask why, exactly, they’re booking a room instead of staying at the loft.

Her attention is returned to Gus when he tugs on her coat sleeve and asks, “What else do we need?”

“Dinner,” Brian says as he approaches them. “We can get that at the hotel, though.”

Gus beams at Brian. “A hotel?! We’re going to a hotel?!”

Brian grins back at him and lifts him up. “I found us a room at the Fairmont. I don’t really feel like living it rough - do you?”

“Nope.” Gus throws his arms around Brian and cuddles him with ferocious intensity. “Thanks, Daddy.”

*

“So, why are we on the lam?”

“Daddy, what does this have to do with a lamb?”

“Not ‘lamb’...” Brian laughs and ruffles Gus’ hair. “Lam. L-A-M. It means to be on the run.”

“Oh.” Gus grabs a handful of fries and jams them into his mouth. Through that mushy mouthful, he explains, “‘Cause I’m real fed up, that’s why.”

“You sure are,” Brian says teasingly. He pokes Gus’ tummy. “Swallow, kiddo.”

Gus swallows dutifully, but then he scowls and complains, “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Ask Justin.” Brian smiles innocently at Gus, then grins at Daphne. “Justin can tell you all about the wonders of swallowing.”

“Okay,” Gus agrees, none-the-wiser. He’s too busy chowing down on more fries to notice Daphne kicking Brian and scolding him. This time, he waits to finish his mouthful before asking, “Can we please go see Jus?”

Rather evasively, Brian replies, “We’ll talk about that in the morning. Right now I want to hear about you.”

“What do you wanna know?”

“How about why you’re fed up?”

“Oh.” Gus scrunches his face up into a ghastly scowl. “I’m real sick of everything, Daddy.”

Once he’s shoved the last handful of fries into his mouth, Daphne grabs the empty dinner tray and sets it onto the floor beside the bed. As Gus flops down into the middle of the mattress, she asks him, “Like what?”

“Like how when school starts next year, I don’t get Miss Lisa as my teacher no more.” Gus crosses his arms over his chest and frowns up at the ceiling. “Did you know she’s gonna be with another class? And did you know which class she’s gonna be with? Jennifer. Rebecca’s.”

Daphne and Brian exchange a glance. As common as it is for Gus to gripe about his little sister, it’s rare for him to call her by her full name. This does _not_ bode well.

Daphne lies down next to Gus and rests her hand over his crossed arms. “Isn’t J.R. too little for school?”

“She’s gonna do ‘early years’,” Gus mutters. “It’s the dumbest. And she’s gonna get Miss Lisa as her teacher, and… and…”

He closes his eyes as though to keep from crying. Brian joins the two of them by lying down on Gus’ other side. As he strokes Gus’ hair, he asks, “And what?”

“And it’s not fair,” Gus whimpers. “Miss Lisa is my teacher. And moms made it happen! They asked for her to be put with Miss Lisa. They don’t even care how I feel. They don’t care one bit that J.R. gets everything that’s mine and that nothing’s ever all mine.”

Then he rolls over and buries his face in the mattress. Brian sighs and rests his hand on Gus’ back. For a while, he leaves it there, placed gently in between Gus’ shoulder blades. Then he starts stroking it up and down, up and down, in a way that looks oh-so-soothing.

Feeling keen to help out, Daphne squeezes Gus’ arm. “It won’t always be so bad, Gussy. You should ask Justin. That’s a question you should _actually_ ask him.”

She gives Brian a look; he merely grins back.

Gus tilts his head to the side and peers up at her through tear-filled eyes. “What do you mean?”

“He didn’t always like Molly very much,” Daphne explains. “She was a bit much when she was little - always crying and taking up everyone’s time. Justin felt really left out. Is that how you feel, honey?”

Gus gulps. “Yup.”

Daphne’s heart sinks a little when she sees a tear slipping down his cheek. Gus is clearly embarrassed - his face grows pink and he squeezes his eyes shut. Daphne glances at Brian and her heart sinks even further at the agonised expression on his face.

“Don’t worry,” she reassures Gus, although she means to say it to Brian, too. “You know what happened with Molly? She grew up. She got old enough for us to play properly with her - not with blocks or soft toys, but with cool stuff. Puzzles and Legos and all sorts of fun things. _And_ we were allowed to go to the park, just the three of us, and eventually the movies too.”

Gus peeks one eye open. “With no grown-ups?”

“Well, Justin’s mom would come to the cinemas… she’d just go and see something different. Then she’d take us all out for icecream. It was nice. In a few years, you and J.R. will be old enough to do that sort of thing.”

“Do you think she’ll be a good sister? Like Molly?”

“I think she will be. You just have to wait for a little while longer.”

“Huh.” Gus blinks both of his eyes open, rolls back over, and stares up at the ceiling. “Only I still want us to run away.”

Brian edges closer to him and rests his head right by Gus’. Now that they’re cuddled close together, their similarities are more striking than ever. Daphne smiles as she observes their matching features, while Brian prompts, “Why’s that, Sonny Boy?”

“We can start a new life,” Gus explains quietly. “We can all go be with Jus. I know you two miss him lots and lots. It’s making you sad.”

“We’re not sad,” Daphne lies.

She feels bad on some level for being dishonest, but then Brian joins in. The sense of solidarity is most reassuring.

“We’re not,” he confirms. “We’re okay.”

Unfortunately, the sense of reassurance is short-lived. Gus assumes a knowing look and shakes his head. “You’re not. Maybe sometimes but not all the time. I see it making you both sad.”

Daphne glances at Brian. He looks thoroughly guilt-stricken. He sounds it, too, as he says to Gus, “I don’t want you worrying about that.”

“But I do.” Gus eyes both of them. He bites his lip and starts chewing on it. “If we all go be with Jus, we’ll all be happy again. And it’ll be something that’s only mine, not no-one else’s.”

Before either of them can say anything, Gus jumps up. He leaps off the bed, grabs his backpack and one of the shopping bags, and then heads into the bathroom. Over his shoulder, he calls, “I’m gonna brush my teeth and then I want storytime.”

As the bathroom door clicks shut, Brian rolls onto his back. “Fucking hell.”

“I didn’t think it was that obvious.” Daphne sits up and draws her knees to her chest. “Is it that obvious? Wait… do me a favour and don’t answer that.”

“I thought it was the move that was messing with him, or the shit with J.R., or… or anything but that.” Brian covers his face with his hands for a moment and groans into them. “Goddamnit.”

“It’ll be okay,” Daphne says. She’s surprised at the conviction with which she speaks; that’s not at all how she feels, not lately. Brian is clearly just as dubious. As he peers at her with a deeply skeptical expression, she pats his arm and continues, “It’s a lot for him to deal with, sure. But he’s a tough kid… and he has you to look up to. He’ll be fine.”

“‘Fine’,” Brian echoes. “Like how we’ve been ‘fine’?”

Daphne considers the time that has passed since Justin’s departure and cringes. It’s not just his absence, it’s a whole flood of things. For her, it’s been a non-stop nightmare with med school and family bullshit and _everything,_ everything that’s been making her feel so weary. She’s seen that same weariness in Brian as he’s contended with a heightened workload and Gus being elsewhere. All of that shit is bad enough on its own, but with Justin gone? To say they’ve been ‘fine’ actually seems a bit of a stretch.

They remain in silence until Gus emerges from the bathroom clasping a picture book in his hands. With a hopeful smile, he requests, “Story time?”

Daphne watches with a twinge of sadness as Brian forces a smile and agrees, “Story time. Come here, kiddo.”

*

After story time, Gus falls fast asleep. He ends up slumbering whilst spooned in Brian’s arms, with Brian holding him close and stroking his hair. It looks like a peaceful way to be. As a result, Gus is definitely out for the count.

As Daphne listens to Gus snoring softly, she keeps an eye on Brian. He still looks distressed - his brow is lined and his eyes are dull.

“It’s not your fault,” Daphne whispers. “He’s a perceptive kid. He was bound to pick up on it.”

“I don’t want to fuck him up.” Brian grimaces and hugs Gus closer. As Gus mumbles contentedly, Brian sighs. “He’s already been through hell ever since the move… I don’t want him worrying about me and Justin on top of everything else.”

“He loves you. He’s always going to worry about you.”

Brian nods a little, but he’s obviously not convinced.

Since this conversation only seems to be headed in a gloomy direction, Daphne redirects their focus. She tries not to sound quite as curious as she feels as she asks, “Why aren’t we at the loft right now?”

She watches as Brian’s hand stills atop Gus’ head. His face remains carefully blank for a moment, then a glimmer of a smirk appears. “Oh. That.”

“Yeah… that. What’s that about?”

“It’s, uh…” Brian laughs softly and resumes stroking Gus’ hair. “It’s being staged.”

“Staged...?”

“So it can be photographed.”

“Photographed…?”

“So it can go on the market.”

“You’re selling the loft? Where are you going to…?” Daphne stares at the smile that Brian is doing a terrible job of hiding and it hits her. “Oh my god. Oh my _god.”_

“You breathe a word of this to Justin,” Brian warns, “And I’ll kill you.”

“So he doesn’t know?”

“Not yet he doesn’t. I’m not going to say anything until everything’s figured out.”

“What has yet to be figured out?”

“The finer details.” Brian sighs and rolls off a list of tasks, most of which revolve around the expansion of Kinnetik. “It’s a work in progress.”

It sounds like one hell of a work in progress, but Daphne feels an unwavering sense of certainty as she says, “You’ll get there. I know you will.”

The crease that was marring Brian’s forehead disappears. As his features relax, he smiles a little and murmurs, “Thanks.”

As Daphne processes it all, she feels a kick of realisation. Worriedly, she blurts out, “You know I’ve never kept a secret from Justin in my entire life, right? I am so not the person to confide in.”

Without missing a beat, Brian says, “Sure you are.”

Touched, Daphne beams at him. The sadness she feels at the prospect of losing him is forgotten for the timebeing - she simply feels too damn flattered to concern herself with being sad.

“Okay. You have my word - I won’t tell him. One condition, though…”

Brian arches an eyebrow at her.

“You memorise his face when he finds out. If I can’t be there, then you’ll have to re-enact it.”

As they grin at each other, Brian agrees, “Deal.”

Suddenly, Gus grumbles and wriggles in Brian’s arms. Both Daphne and Brian freeze and wait to see if he’ll wake up properly… but he doesn’t. Gus slumps a little and resumes his peaceful breathing. It reminds Daphne of all the sleep she’s been losing lately.

Knowingly, Brian smiles at her and whispers goodnight. Daphne smiles back and watches him bundle Gus closer, close his eyes, and bury his face in Gus’ hair. Then she closes her eyes and quickly slips off to sleep.

*

Brian wakes to sun shining through the hotel’s bedroom window. As he shields his eyes, he remembers Gus pleading to have the curtains left open so that they could look out and see Pittsburgh at night. It’s then that Brian realises that Gus is missing.

He bolts upright and glances around the room. Daphne is curled up beside him, fast asleep, but Gus is nowhere to be seen. Brian grabs the blanket and covers Daphne with it, then leaps out of bed in pursuit of his kid.

Fortunately, it’s not too long until Gus is found. Brian discovers him snuggled up in the big armchair by the TV; the size of the chair dwarfs Gus, who has his knees pulled to his chest and something clutched in his hands. Brian touches the kid’s head gently to make him aware of his presence… seconds before he scoops Gus up and bundles him in a tight embrace.

“Morning, kiddo,” Brian says. He flops down in the armchair himself and pulls Gus into his lap. “You sleep well?”

“Pretty well.” Gus ducks his head and stares at the thing in his hands. It’s the photo of Melanie and Lindsay - the two of them are sporting smiles that contrast sharply with Gus’ gloomy expression.

Brian touches the kid’s chin and lifts it. As soon as Gus makes eye contact, Brian asks, “What’s on your mind?”

With a sniffle, Gus confesses, “I think I miss moms.”

“You do, huh?”

“Yeah. Lots and lots.”

Brian smiles and hugs Gus closer. “Talk to me, kiddo.”

Gus peers down at the photo and twists it a little in his hands. “I miss lots of things.”

“Like what?”

“Like… how… well, Mommy M and I normally do Dictionary Time in the mornings, right about now. We sit in her home office and we read my dictionary together to learn new words. We have a tally for both of us because even Mommy doesn’t know all the words.” Gus releases a shaky little sigh and clutches the photo to his chest. “And Mommy L makes breakfast while we do Dictionary Time. She makes us nummy pancakes and also fruit cups, and sometimes she makes it in a shape… like my whole plate looks like a smile or a star or a love heart. And we do pictures together and she says I’m the most beautiful artist she ever saw, which I don’t think is true but it’s real nice of her to say.”

“Mmm.” Brian rests his chin atop Gus’ head and closes his eyes. “What else?”

“And when we go to school, they sometimes leave J.R. with a sitter and they walk me together, just us three. And they both hold my hands and they lift me up and swing me back and forth. Like how you and Jus did that time we went to the park, y’know? And when they drop me off with Miss Lisa, they tell me they love me and that they’re real proud of me.” Gus whimpers and buries his face against Brian’s neck. “And I wanna start our new life but I also don’t wanna never see moms again.”

Brian kisses Gus’ muss of hair and rocks him a little. “They’re good moms, aren’t they?”

“They’re the bestest,” Gus whispers. “I miss them, Daddy.”

“Do you know what I think?”

“Nope… what?”

“I think there’s four hours until check-out, so that’s four more hours to enjoy our new life. Then, once we’ve checked out, we’ll take you back to your moms.”

Gus twists around and gazes up at Brian with rounded, glossy eyes. “Are you sure, Daddy?”

Even though he isn’t - even though there’s a part of Brian that would dearly love to run away right now and begin the new life that Gus had planned for them - he pretends that he is and says, “I’m sure, kiddo.”

“But what,” Gus gulps, “What about you and Daphne? And Jus? ‘Cause I reckon if you two are sad then he must be sad and I don’t like that.”

“We’ll be fine.” Brian hugs Gus as close as he can and promises, “Everything will be alright.”

“You’re sure? Real sure?”

“Yes,” Brian resolves. He brushes his thumb over Gus’ cheeks, which are a little damp from a few stray tears having escaped. “Now… how does room service sound?”

That brings a smile to Gus’ face. “Good. But first… can we snuggle for a bit longer? That’s what me and moms do on weekends.”

“Sure. C’mere.” Brian draws Gus closer and rocks him some more. As Gus buries his face against Brian’s chest, Brian sighs contentedly. He hasn’t felt this safe or this sure in quite some time.

Truthfully, the ground has felt uneven beneath his feet ever since Gus and Justin’s departures from Pittsburgh. It has often felt as though it might crumble and give way at any moment. Brian wonders if that is how Gus has been feeling - as though the earth might vanish from beneath him, leaving him scrambling. Perhaps that’s a facet of Gus’ anxious spells - the tears, the nightmares, the constant threat of distress. The thought of it makes Brian sick. He doesn’t want his child experiencing the world that way - especially not now, when he’s so young (and preferably not ever).

Nor does he want to experience the world that way. He’s tired of the uncertainty, the longing, the loneliness. If he’s lucky, that will all soon come to an end. New York is on the horizon. _Justin_ is on the horizon. There’s a plethora of red tape to work through, as well as difficult decisions to be made, plus important financial goals that must be reached… but it can’t be long now.

Can it?

The thought of the ground that has yet to be covered leaves Brian reeling. Even with Gus bundled in his arms, he feels a swell of panic. How much longer will he have to wait? Will he get there at all?

Fucking hell, he’s fed up with this. The stress of it all has long since worn out its welcome. Brian tries to rid himself of it - he focuses on how fulfilling it feels to have Gus in his arms, and the ground feels firmer beneath his feet. He tries to recall Daphne’s kind and confident words - what was it that she said last night?

_You’ll get there. I know you will._

And just like that, the ground feels solid - ready to be journeyed on. Brian has no idea how long the journey will take - maybe weeks, maybe months, maybe another year yet. Maybe more. 

But it doesn’t really matter. He’s made great strides already. He can see his new life on the horizon. It’s there, waiting for him, just as much as he’s waiting for it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Brian departs for New York, Daphne struggles with losing another best friend all over again.

“So… that’s everything, isn’t it?” Daphne swallows to try to get rid of the lump in her throat as she hands Brian his duffel bag. “I’ll ship the rest of it once you’re settled, Cynthia’s handling all the work stuff…”

“That’s it,” Brian says. He slings the bag over his shoulder and grabs his suitcase - a frighteningly massive thing that took forever for the two of them to get shut, since it contains the majority of Brian’s wardrobe plus a heap of gifts for Gus. “I’d better get moving. Check-ins close soon.”

“Right.” Daphne forces a smile. “Give Gus a hug from me?”

Instantly, Brian’s face lights up. He grins and agrees, “Sure.”

It’s a relief when they are split for a moment, by a family rushing in between them to get through the doors and towards the check-in desk. Daphne takes that moment to steel herself. She tries to pretend that this is a happy occasion rather than a sad one.

In all honesty, it’s both. She’s thrilled that Brian is finally moving to New York to be with Justin. Even better is that Cynthia managed to manipulate the timeline to buy Brian some time off, which means he’ll get to spend a few days with Gus before heading to New York. Daphne can’t get over how _happy_ he looks.

She also can’t get over losing him, but in a totally different way. It was one thing losing Justin to New York! At least she had Brian. Now he’s going too, and even though she knows it’s for the best, it hurts.

It hurts _badly._

“So you’ll give him a call in a couple of days?”

Daphne shakes herself from her gloomy musings and laughs a little as she remembers their scheme. “Yeah, I’ll call him, then I’ll text you. Remember - memorise that reaction. I’m gonna need a replay.”

Brian grins again, so brightly this time that it almost rivals one of Justin’s smiles. _Or maybe,_ Daphne thinks, _you’re forgetting Justin’s smile because you haven’t seen him in so damn long._

Then, as though he’s just read her mind, Brian asks, “You’ll come visit soon, right?”

“Right.” Daphne gives him the very best smile that she possibly can. “Now get moving. Go on, go see your son.”

Brian steps in closer and hooks an arm around her shoulders. As he pulls her in for a hug, he kisses her forehead. Daphne wraps her arms around him and embraces him tightly. She tries to soak up all the Brian she can, for the final few seconds she still has him here. In less than an hour, he’ll be boarding the plane. Not long after that, he’ll have departed Pittsburgh. Then he officially won’t live here anymore.

Neither of her best friends will be here.

When the hug ends, she wants to cry, but then she sees the smile on Brian’s face. The lump in her throat vanishes. Daphne grins up at him (a real one, this time) and says, “Text me when you land in Toronto, okay?”

“Okay.” Brian leans in and kisses her cheek. “See you.”

“See you,” she echoes, and then she watches him walk away.

*

The next couple of days pass in a dreary blur. Daphne doesn’t know whether it’s a blessing or a curse that she has time off from work - yes, it’s nice to have a breather, but it also leaves her with an awful lot of time for wallowing.

On Thursday, she discovers she’s not alone in wallowing. When she calls Justin, he sounds utterly miserable. Funnily enough, it brings a smile to Daphne’s face.

“I fucking hate this,” Justin laments. “All I do is pine for him. Seriously, it’s pathetic.”

“Brian pines too,” Daphne points out. “He’s really been missing you.”

“Really? Shit.” Justin sighs. “When did you see him last? Is he okay?”

_Monday, when I dropped him off at the airport. He was the happiest I’ve ever seen him._

“The other day. He was fine.”

She doesn’t much like lying to Justin, but hey, he’ll forgive her when all is revealed.

“Ugh,” Justin groans, “‘Fine’. I hate that word. Maybe I should-”

Before he can launch into another pointless round of ‘maybe-I-should-come-back-to-Pittsburgh’, Daphne cuts in to suggest, “Let’s move on. Tell me something good. What have you been up to today?”

As Justin switches gears and starts talking about his day so far, Daphne prepares to launch into the critical phase of the scheme that she and Brian cooked up. He landed at JFK ten minutes ago and will be on his way into the city shortly. Time to figure out where Justin is, so that Brian can go and surprise him.

“What are your plans for lunch?”

“I don’t really feel like eating. I’m gonna go to the gallery,” Justin says, his tone dipping back into dejected territory. “Daph, I’m sorry, but this sucks. I hate everything.”

As he continues to rant about missing Brian and hating the nightmare that is being in a long-distance relationship, Daphne shrugs her landline onto her shoulder so she can keep listening to him, and then goes to her purse to grab her cell. To Brian, she texts:

_He’ll be at the gallery in Brooklyn :-) xo_

“I don’t know what to do about it.”

“It’s going to be okay," Daphne promises. “Seriously, Justin – everything will work out.”

Sounding most dubious, Justin retorts, “How do you know that?”

Daphne pauses as a text from Brian pops up, one which starts to strip the dreariness away from her day.

**On my way now. Talk soon?**

  _Talk soon. Now go get him <3_

“I just have a feeling.” Daphne smiles to herself as she imagines their imminent reunion. “Cheer up. You never know what the day will bring.”

 **TBC**  


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne visits Justin and Brian in NY.

“Him,” Daphne says, pointing to the bouncer with crawling ivy tattooed up his muscular arms.

“Him,” Brian says, pointing to the suit with honey-blonde hair.

“Ew!” Daphne wrinkles her nose at Brian. “Really?”

Brian continues eyeing the guy up as he asks, “What’s not to like?”

Daphne finishes her drink, sets it aside, and joins Brian in ogling the guy. He _is_ attractive - undeniably so - what with his thick honey-coloured locks and the muscular build that’s doing a great job of filling out his grey suit. As his gaze flicks from his phone towards the bar, Daphne catches a glimpse of glittering green eyes. Then there’s everything else - his full lips, the open-collar look, the shoes that probably cost what most people in this bar pay on rent. The guy is definitely attractive.

 _Too_ attractive, by Daphne’s standards. 

She shakes her head and explains to Brian, “He’s too pristine. It’s suspicious. There’s a Patrick Bateman kinda vibe going on…”

“I’m not seeing the problem…”

“I mean a ‘Patrick Bateman kinda vibe’ in the so-pristine-he’s-got-to-be-hiding-something way, not in the Christian-Bale-is-devastatingly-sexy way.”

“Ah.”

Daphne flicks a pen towards Brian and prompts, “Tally it.”

They grab their tallies - scribed on loose pages from Justin’s sketchpad - and add one mark each. Before moving on from that mark and trying to find the next in their latest and greatest round of who-would-you-fuck, Daphne counts hers (nineteen) and then peers over at Brian’s. She bursts out laughing and accuses, “You are such a slut!”

“Thank you,” Brian says, totally seriously.

Daphne giggles and grabs his list from him. “How have you gotten to 33 already? We’ve only been playing for half an hour! That’s basically a guy a minute!”

“A guy a minute,” Brian muses. “Now that would be taking things to the next level…”

“Uh, well, Justin’s levelled _way_ up.” Daphne grabs the list from under Justin’s empty beer bottle and stares at it. As Brian leans in to have a look, she exclaims, “Forty-six!”

“The lad is insatiable,” Brian remarks, with obvious pride. Then he smirks and drawls, “Speak of the devil…”

Justin is weaving his way through the masses of people crowding the bar, drinks in hand and a grin on his face. He slows down to eye up a guy passing by - number forty-seven, perhaps? - then picks up the pace so that he can return, put the drinks down, and leap into Brian’s arms.

“Hey.” Justin beams at Brian, then kisses him passionately. When they eventually come up for air, Justin grabs his list and adds another five marks to his tally.

“Impressive,” Brian notes. He loops his arm around Justin’s neck and kisses his cheek. Justin smiles at Brian, kisses the tip of his nose, then bumps their noses together. It’s hard to tell in this light, but Daphne could swear that Brian blushes.

As she grabs her drink, Daphne points the neck of the bottle at Justin accusingly, and demands, “Where did you find another five guys? You only went to the bar!”

Justin merely shrugs and replies, “All the bartenders were hot.”

Intrigued, Daphne perks up in her seat to gaze towards the bar. Brian cranes his neck and does the same.

“Three of the five,” Daphne resolves.

“Two of the five.” Brian gives Justin a horrified look and removes himself from their embrace. “Get away from me - I won’t have you infecting me with your questionable taste.”

Unfazed, Justin plucks a couple of cards out of his back pocket and waves them at Brian enticingly.

“How’s this for questionable taste? These guys were waiting for drinks with me. This one-” he hands the first card over, “Is for you to enjoy at your leisure. And this one-” he holds the second card up, but snatches it away when Brian reaches for it and holds it at bay, “Is for us to share, so I’ll be holding onto it for safe-keeping.”

“Who are they?” Daphne asks, prompting Justin to point towards one guy who’s still at the bar (he’s the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome) and another who’s laughing with his friends by the stairwell (he’s lean and tan with a killer smile).

“Good work,” Brian praises, as he eyes the tall, dark, and handsome guy appreciatively. “And here I thought this was a barren wasteland of _straight people.”_

He utters those words so venomously that Justin thumps him and warns, “Hey - they’re not all bad. Daph’s straight.”

“Daphne,” Brian says silkily, whilst reaching over to toy with her hair, “Is obviously the exception.”

Daphne can’t help but blush, just a little. She beams at Brian, right as Justin says, “So - speaking of straight people we love - Molly’s birthday is coming up. It’s her sixteenth so I was thinking we should make it special for her.”

At the first mention of Molly, Daphne winces. She knew this conversation was coming; she had just hoped it wouldn’t happen this soon. 

Brian pulls Justin close again and asks, “What were you thinking?”

“Maybe invite her here? Take her out to dinner and a show?”

“Um,” Daphne interjects (even though she really, _really_ doesn’t want to), “One small issue...”

“What?”

What with being an animal lover and all, Daphne doesn’t know what it would actually be like to, say, kick a puppy dog - but she has a feeling she’s about to find out. She swallows, steels herself, and says, “She’s spending the day with your dad.”

And just like that, any trace of good spirit vanishes from Justin’s expression. His face falls for a moment, right before he catches himself. Then, with a blank look and a tone to match, he says, “Excuse me?”

Daphne glances at Brian quickly, but that doesn’t help whatsoever. He looks utterly livid. Maybe it would be better to stare at her drink, rather than the kicked-puppy-turned-catatonic or the dragon who’s gearing up to breathe fire all over everyone.

So, whilst staring at her drink, Daphne confesses to what she’s known for the past week: “She’s having brunch with him and then they’re going to a movie.”

Brian scoffs, picks up his drink, and downs most of it in one go. Justin remains still and quiet. Then, after a beat, his face contorts with anger and he snaps, “How fucking lovely.”

Both at once, Daphne and Brian start to say, “Justin-”

“I need another drink.”

Without another word, let alone a look in either Daphne or Brian’s direction, Justin picks himself up and storms towards the bar. As she watches him go, Daphne’s stomach drops.

“Shit,” she mutters.

Brian turns and looks towards the bar, where Justin is standing amongst a throng of people waiting for drinks. Then he turns back and asks bluntly, “So what the fuck is Molly’s problem, exactly?”

“Don’t ask me!”

“You spend the most time with her out of all of us.”

“That doesn’t mean I understand why she’s so pro-Craig!” Daphne sighs and runs her finger around the rim of one her empty cocktail glasses. As the glass hums, she muses, “She means well.”

“Fuck meaning well,” Brian snaps. “Justin deserves better than that.”

“I know that.” Daphne drops her hand away from her glass, pins Brian with a look, and adds, “You _know_ I know that.”

He sighs and relents, “Yeah, I know.”

Daphne watches Justin as he talks to the bartender. He’s tense from top to toe and still wearing that same empty expression. It makes her chest clench. Pained, she looks away, back towards Brian who is in a similar state of distress.

“He stayed up all goddamned night talking to her about that piece of shit,” Brian seethes. 

“I know,” Daphne says softly.

“I got home at eight and he was on the phone with her.” Brian’s hand grips around his drink until his knuckles go white. “He stayed on the phone with her until four in the morning. He told her everything - no detail spared! So why the fuck hasn’t anything changed?”

“That’s a good fucking question,” Justin snaps, surprising both of them. He slams a bottle of whisky down in the middle of the table and distributes the three glasses. “The plan was we wouldn’t tell her the whole story until she was eighteen. Mom convinced me that was the right thing to do, what with Dad still having partial custody and all. She said we should wait until Molly was all grown up so that she could be free to make whatever choice she wanted to make. Well, that wasn’t good enough for Molly, was it? She just had to know everything _right away._ So after having a huge fight with Mom about it, which I really fucking enjoyed _by the way,_ I then had to talk her through _everything_ for hours on end.”

Daphne flicks Brian a very concerned look, which he reciprocates immediately. As he reaches for the bottle to start pouring drinks, they continue to listen to Justin’s furious ranting.

“Do you know how many fucking questions she asked me? ‘But why would Dad treat anyone that way?’ Uh, because he’s a heartless homophobic asshole, maybe? ‘Did he really slap you?!’ Yes, he really slapped me. ‘Did Dad really say that??’ Yes, he really called me disgusting. ‘Dad wouldn’t try to hurt Brian like that… would he?’ Uh, yeah, he did.” Justin grimaces, then mutters, “I should have kicked his ass for that.”

At that, Brian smiles a little. He kisses Justin’s temple, which Daphne hopes will calm Justin some, but nope - Justin keeps right on going.

“I thought she was curious. I thought she was trying to figure the whole situation out.” He pauses to toss back most of his drink, which only serves to fuel his anger further. “But I guess she didn’t believe me! Or she just doesn’t care. Or maybe she let Dad brainwash her. Fucking bitch.”

“Justin!” Daphne goggles at him.

He glares right back. “What?”

“Uh, two things: don’t talk about your kid sister like that-”

“But she-!”

“Okay, three things! Don’t interrupt me while I’m talking to you, _don’t_ talk about your kid sister like that - your _fifteen-year-old_ kid sister, I might add! - and don’t resort to gross gendered insults, please and fucking thank you!”

Justin continues glaring at her for a few moments more, but then he stops and mutters, “Sorry.”

Daphne shrugs at him and then grabs at her drink. As she takes a sip that burns all the way down, Justin adds sullenly, “You used to call Ethan a ‘little bitch’ all the time.”

“Those,” Daphne retorts, “Were a completely different set of circumstances.” 

Brian is the first to start laughing. Daphne tries to stop herself, but her shoulders soon start shaking, and then Justin starts laughing, so she really can’t resist any longer.

It’s a relief to see him laughing, even if said laughter is a little subdued. That’s soon solved, though – Justin’s smile flourishes as Brian wraps an arm around him and kisses his forehead.

“Let’s just forget it,” Justin says. He shrugs and grabs the bottle to top everyone up. Just as soon as his glass is full, he’s emptying it. “Like Mom always says - it’s Molly’s call.”

Then, snidely, he adds, “Even if the call she’s making is fucking ridiculous.”

“You could talk to her about it,” Brian suggests.

“You _should_ talk to her about it,” Daphne adds. “She should know how you feel about this.”

Justin sighs and shakes his head. “I did talk to her. It clearly didn’t make much impact.”

Daphne and Brian exchange another glance, but before either of them can say anything, Justin shrugs it off and says, “Fuck it. Let’s just talk about something else.”

He punctuates that by filling his glass and emptying it again in rapid succession. Rinse, repeat.

Well, shit.

*

Something must have happened between draining the bottle of whisky and arriving back at the apartment, but Daphne can’t remember much of it at all. 

She remembers them staggering down Eighth Ave. with the sky starting to glow orange with approaching daybreak.

She remembers Justin in the middle, arms around both her and Brian.

She remembers the streets being eerily quiet, except for trucks making deliveries and the occasional cab rolling slowly by them.

She honestly has no recollection of how they made it from 54th Street, all the way downtown to Soho, or what they talked about, or how they possibly survived the journey given how wasted they are.

They couldn’t even make it to their bedrooms, for crying out loud! As soon as they got home, Brian went straight for the couch and passed out. Daphne isn’t far off that point, either. As she curls up in the oversized armchair by the window, the room around her spins, then fades, then spins, then fades.

Amidst all the spinning and fading, she notices Justin approaching. He sits down on the floor and rests his back against the armchair. Daphne wriggles closer to him and slings her arm over his shoulder.

“Hey,” she mumbles.

“Hey.”

“You okay?”

“I guess so.”

She can’t see his face from this angle to judge, but he doesn’t sound okay. It occurs to her that maybe they should continue talking the whole thing out, but that feels like a familiar sort of thought. After a moment, Daphne remembers that it occured to her several times during the night, but Justin dodged any attempts at questioning. Perhaps it’s best to leave it be … for now. Yeah,  she’ll deal with this later, when they’ve all sobered up properly. For now,  Daphne uses what little strength she has left to squeeze Justin. He makes a small, happy sort of noise and curls his hand around her forearm.

“Fuck it,” Justin slurs. He dips his head down and kisses Daphne’s wrist. “You’re the sister I needed.”

As daybreak bleeds through the apartment, Daphne drops her head onto Justin’s shoulder and tries not to cry. Fortunately, just as soon as her head falls, she’s ready to sleep.

She’s seconds away from dozing off when she hears him whisper one last thing: “Need. You’re… you’re the sister I need.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the first of two parts, all set the night before Gus' sixth birthday.

“Brian,” Daphne hisses, “What the hell are we going to do?”

“Uh, plot Lindsay’s demise?” Brian glares at the door through which Lindsay recently departed and mutters, “Un-fucking-believable.”

“Shhh!” Daphne points to Gus and Ruby, who are sitting happily in front of the TV. “Do you want to make a bad situation worse?”

It’s a good thing that Gus and Ruby are happy, because Daphne and Brian are _not._ Five minutes ago, a knock sounded at the door of their suite at the Four Seasons in Toronto. They had both expected it to be Justin, who has been pre-occupied all afternoon with party preparations for Gus’ sixth birthday. But instead of Justin, they discovered Lindsay with Gus and Ruby in tow. Before they knew it, Gus had bolted inside, Ruby had latched onto Brian, and Lindsay informed them that the kids would be staying the night.

“To keep them out of trouble,” she said, smiling, as though nothing was wrong.

“Have fun,” she said, after ignoring their attempts at protests, as though ‘fun’ were a fitting description for a night with two hyper children.

And hyper they certainly are. They spent a good three minutes running laps around the suite, giggling and whooping, until Brian finally managed to catch them and settle them on the sofa - relatively speaking, of course. Now they’re watching Spongebob and cackling at top volume every five seconds or so.

“We are so not qualified to deal with this,” Daphne groans.

Brian glances over at Gus and Ruby, who are both mid-cackle. “They’ll settle down…”

Feeling stunned by his uncharacteristically naive optimism, Daphne gawks at him. “We can barely handle Gus all on his own when he's this high-energy! Now there’s two of him! Only worse - little girls are _evil,_ trust me, I ought to know.”

Before Brian has a chance to respond, the unthinkable happens. Spongebob ends. As the credits roll, Ruby leaps up. Gus follows a nanosecond later. Together, they resume bolting around the suite in a shared fit of giggles.

Then, as though that wasn’t bad enough, they both start hollering the Spongebob theme.

“We need Justin,” Daphne says, whilst watching the two kids in abject horror.

“You’re right,” Brian says. “I’ll go get him.”

He starts to make for the door, but Daphne is quick enough to snag his sleeve.

“Don’t you dare! You don’t get to leave me at a time like this!”

“You’re better equipped than I am to handle them!”

“How do you figure that?”

Brian looks her up and down, then indicates to her vaguely, and says, “You know.”

“Uh, jeez Brian - gender normative much?” Daphne fixes him with a scowl. “Just because I’m a woman-”

“Gender has nothing to do with it! The fact that you’re a doctor, on the other hand-”

“That has nothing to do with anything!”

“You’ve also spent the past decade plus babysitting!”

“You’re Gus’ _father,_ you should-” Daphne cuts herself short when it hits her: the hollering and giggling has come to a halt. She glances around and finds Gus and Ruby standing right next to them. Both of them are still giggling but with their hands clapped over their mouths.

“Daddy,” Gus says, as he drops his hands away, “Guess what?”

“What?”

Gus giggles and glances conspirationally at Ruby, who smirks back. Gus then smacks Brian’s leg and hollers, “Tag, you’re it!”

Then he sprints off, lightning-quick, giggling all the way.

Brian sighs, takes off his shoes, and says to Daphne and Ruby, “Excuse me.”

Then he goes chasing after Gus. As Brian disappears into one of the bedrooms, Daphne turns her attention to Ruby, who is looking up at her with a big smile.

That smile doesn’t fool Daphne. She knows all too well how wicked little girls can be. This one may look as sweet as sugar… well, sweeter, actually. Ruby is as pint-sized as Gus is, only with bigger and bluer eyes, and a shock of strawberry-blonde ringlets flowing down to her elbows. They’re gathered into bunches and tied with pink ribbons, which match the peonies on her t-shirt. Her whole outfit is pretty cute - Daphne can’t help but admire the gold tutu and glittery slippers that Ruby is wearing, paired with star-spangled stockings.

“Daphne,” Ruby says, whilst swaying from side to side with her hands locked together behind her back. “I like your hair.”

“Thank you,” Daphne says. She returns Ruby’s smile and then her compliment, too. “I like yours, too.”

They both pause as Gus and Brian come tearing through the lounge in a mad chase. When they disappear again, Ruby frowns up at Daphne. “Only I’m confused.”

“How come?”

“When Gus showed me your photo, you had hair sort of like mine. Where did your curls go?”

“Oh,” Daphne says, laughing a little, “I straightened it, honey. The curls will come back.”

Ruby’s eyes go very, very wide. “How’d you do that?”

“With irons.”

Ruby’s eyes go wider still. She points to the linen closet where the iron is kept and echoes, “Irons?”

“No.” Daphne smiles and reaches for her overnight bag. She pulls out her pink straightening irons and shows them to Ruby. “These kind of irons.”

“They’re so pretty,” Ruby coos. “How do you use them?”

“Here, they work like this-”

Gus comes bolting into the room, sans Brian, which seems awfully suspicious to Daphne. As she wonders what on earth Gus has done to give his father the slip, Gus eyes the irons with intrigue. As Daphne opens and closes them, he cackles, then starts opening and closing his arms in the same fashion, and snarling too.

“Raaaar, crocodile, raaaaaaar, raaar, raaaaaar!”

Ruby squeals as he snaps at her, but she’s soon rescued by Brian, who comes sprinting after Gus at top speed. Gus shrieks, bolts, and so the chase continues.

“And it goes back?” Ruby eyes the irons with fascination. “Your curls go back the way they were?”

“Sure do.”

“Wow.”

Daphne can’t help but smile at the look of fascination on Ruby’s face. “Yeah, it’s neat.”

But just as she’s warming to the little girl, Ruby says something that stops Daphne in her tracks: “Will you do mine?”

“Huh?”

“Will you make my curls go straight? I wanna see what I’d look like.”

Before Daphne can consider this request, they’re interrupted by an almighty scream from Gus. As the girls stare at the bedroom door through which the boys recently vanished, they make a sudden reappearance - Brian is holding Gus by his ankles, dangling him upside down, and Gus is hiccuping with laughter.

It is the very opposite of the calm that Daphne wishes to create. She gives Brian a look, which prompts him to haul Gus over to the couch and drop him down on it. He kisses the boy’s head, grabs the menu from the end-table, and hands it to Gus.

“Choose us something for dinner, kiddo.” Brian ruffles his hair, then calls, “Ruby, come help him with this.”

Gus beams and calls, “Ruby, come on!”

Ruby smiles up at Daphne and then rushes off to help Gus choose dinner. Daphne reads that smile loud and clear: _please say yes, I’m expecting you to say yes._

Goddamnit.

“Brian,” she hisses. “Sidebar!”

They huddle in the entryway and hold a very secretive sidebar, which Gus and Ruby seem oblivious to as they rifle through the menu. Daphne keeps her eye on the kids as she whispers, “Firstly, we need to calm them the fuck down.”

“Language,” Brian teases. “Do you want to make a bad situation worse?”

Daphne pulls a face at him. “Seriously - can’t we order them warm milk? Spiked with lavender? Or something? They’re so hyper!”

“Cocoa calms Gus down…”

“Then cocoa it is.”

Suddenly, Gus and Ruby burst out laughing again. As they cackle amongst themselves to the point of doubling over, Brian and Daphne exchange a look.

“I have sleeping pills,” Brian says, and at this point Daphne is pretty sure he’s only half-joking.

“We’ll call that Plan B. Now, secondly… she wants me to straighten her hair.”

Brian doesn’t look at all fazed. “So?”

“So… is that something people do?”

“Why are you asking me? You’re the doctor.”

“Yeah, duh, I know it won’t affect her _medically…”_

“Well, you’re also a seasoned babysitter…”

“Yeah, and the most I’ve ever done was plait kids’ hair, not straighten it! Would her moms be okay with that?”

Brian snorts. “You mean the same mothers who presumably allowed Lindsay and Melanie to ditch the kids with us?”

“Well…”

“I mean, for fuck’s sakes, they’ve never even met you! They’ve met me once!” Brian scowls, then smirks. “If Ruby wants you to straighten her hair, straighten her hair. If it were up to me, we’d dye and dreadlock it.”

“Brian,” Daphne protests, laughing. She thumps his chest lightly. “Don’t even go there.”

As he snickers, Daphne feels a tug on her skirt. There stands Ruby, looking up at her very seriously.

“Daphne,” she says solemnly, “My moms won’t be mad at you, I swear it. They always say it’s my body, my choice, so I’m making this choice for myself. Like how I chose to get my ears pierced, or how I chose this outfit today.”

Daphne steals a glance at Brian, who shrugs at her.

“You said they’d go back,” Ruby says, as she winds one ringlet around her finger. “I just want to try it, just for one day. Please?”

Then she smiles and flutters her eyelashes at Daphne. It’s a move that Daphne’s all too familiar with - hell, she _invented_ that move. Yet, somehow, she’s falling for it.

“Okay,” she says, smiling back at Ruby. “We’ll give it a try. If you’re sure…”

Ruby nods her head vigorously. “I’m super sure.”

But just as Daphne is taking comfort in the conviction in Ruby’s voice, Gus comes running up and demands loudly, “I want Daphne to do my hair with the crocodile irons, too!”

“Your hair is already straight,” Daphne points out. “And it’s too short, sweetie.”

This doesn’t go over well with Gus - not at all. He scowls up at her, pouts, then lifts his foot as though he’s about to stomp it down in righteous anger.

“Gus,” Brian says, calmly but firmly, “She’s right. Your hair _is_ straight, and even if it weren’t, it’s way too short.”

Gus falters. He sets his foot back down without any stomping and protests, “But Daddy!”

“No buts.”

_“Daddy, **please-”**_

Ruby interrupts Gus’ meltdown by tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. “How about we do beauty night?”

Gus pauses, frowns, then asks, “What’s beauty night?”

All eyes turn to Ruby as she explains, “Me and my babysitter Meg used to do beauty night. It’s where you do beauty things to make yourself feel and look nice. Daphne can make my curls go straight with the crocodile irons, and maybe Brian can find a different way to do your hair.”

Daphne smiles to herself as Ruby lists off other examples. It reminds her of sleepovers with her girlfriends, which there haven’t been too many of lately, now that they’re all ‘grown-ups’ with time-consuming, energy-stealing jobs and responsibilities. How nice it would be to go back to that, especially with Brian, Gus, and Ruby for company.

“Good idea, sweetie,” Daphne says, which makes Ruby blush a little. “Gus, how does that sound?”

“It sounds okay,” Gus mutters. He clearly isn’t sold on the idea yet. As he glares up at Brian, he warns, “You’d better do a real good job, Daddy.”

Brian hoists Gus up so that they’re eye-to-eye. Very seriously, he retorts, “Like I’d do anything else. Now, what are we having for dinner?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be continued in Chapter 10 when Justin arrives at the hotel to discover the aftermath of 'beauty night' :)


	10. Chapter 10

Thirty-four party hats, four celebratory banners, and one very intricate birthday card later, and Justin is done with painting. Done, done, _done._ Definitely, officially, permanently.

Okay, maybe not. But he’s sure as fuck going to take a very well deserved break from it.

When the cab drops him at the Four Seasons, Justin realises that he _may_ have overdone it… just a little. His wrists are sore and his fingers are stiff. There’s a slight twinge in his neck that feels like it’s going to get worse before it gets better. But whatever - that won’t matter for much longer. Soon, he’ll be able to relax with his two favourite people. It’s after ten, so Gus and Ruby should be in bed and fast asleep, which will give Justin, Brian, and Daph some time to hang out.

They won’t be able to stick to their original plans - which were to get drunk, order room service, and watch American Psycho - but whatever they get up to, it will surely be better than party prep.

“Hi,” Justin says to the guy behind the front desk. “My boyfriend checked in earlier - the booking was under Kinney and Taylor. There should be a keycard for me?”

“Sure thing. Can I please see some ID?”

“Yeah, here you go.”

Justin hands over his ID and then leans on top of the marble counter. As he scans the ID, the guy - blonde, slender, and with stunning brown eyes - smiles at Justin, a tad flirtaciously. “That was your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“So he _is_ gay?”

Justin shrugs and smiles. “Last time I checked…”

“He was with a girl,” the guy muses. “Cute little thing. I wasn’t sure whether she was with him, or bearding for him, or…” He hushes momentarily as another staff member walks past, then continues, “Or, whatever. They seemed pretty cozy.”

“They are,” Justin laughs. “She’s our best friend.”

“Nice.” The guy hands over the key-card and Justin’s ID. “Twelfth floor, turn right when you exit the elevator. Enjoy your stay… and enjoy that boyfriend of yours.”

“Thanks.” Justin grins at him, then turns away in search of the elevators. If Daph, Gus, and Ruby weren’t present this evening, he might invite the guy up to their room - but alas.

It doesn’t surprise Justin one bit that Daph and Brian were mistaken for a couple (or a gay guy and his beard). To say that they’re ‘cozy’ is an understatement. They have a total friend crush on each other. It’s kind of adorable - the constant looks they give each other, the little nudges, the in-jokes that even Justin isn’t caught up with. And then there are the stories that he hears from Daph: how Brian was there for her during this, that, and the other thing. Justin knows that she was there for him, too, even if Brian doesn’t launch into long, glowing speeches about it.

There are brief moments where he feels jealous or guilty about the whole thing, but then he’s reminded that they love him as much as they love each other. Then Justin goes right back to finding it adorable.

Of course, there is one part of this newly established best-friendship that Justin isn’t so happy with, and that’s the alliance that Daph and Brian have formed. Daph has _always_ been a gossipy little brat where Brian is concerned and has only been too happy to overshare with him, but now Brian is gossiping right back. No information is sacred anymore - especially not since they frequently include Justin’s mom and sister in their sordid little alliance. Now every single embarrassing detail of his past and present are being shared. And there’s nothing to be done about it! Justin thought that striking back might help, and since he has a vast mental catalogue of embarrassing stories about his boyfriend and best friend, it wasn’t hard at all. But it didn’t help. All it did was spur an all-out war between the three of them (and sometimes his mom and Molly, too) to see who could share the most embarrassing story.

As the elevator reaches the twelfth floor, Justin wonders what tales have been told in his absence. It’s a dangerous thing, leaving Brian and Daph alone. At least Gus and Ruby have been there for some of the time… that might have stopped their gossipy nonsense. But Gus and Ruby probably went to bed hours ago, so that will have left Brian and Daph with plenty of time to gossip and giggle between themselves like the two infatuated dorks they are.

Justin smiles to himself as he tags into the suite. Okay, so he pouts and plays the part of the victim when they gossip and giggle… but really, it doesn’t matter. They are the two people who know him best, and there’s nothing that Daph knows that Brian shouldn’t, and vice versa. Some of the stories may be embarrassing, but that doesn’t matter - not when his two favourite people now hold each other as favourites. Honestly, that’s pretty fantastic.

“Daddy, this is a big bunch of nonsense!”

Justin stops dead at the sound of Gus’ voice. It’s almost half past ten! What the hell is Gus still doing up?

His stomach sinks as he drops his satchel in the entryway. He _told_ Linds and Mel that it was unfair to ditch the kids with Brian and Daph, but they wouldn’t listen. Neither would Ruby’s moms. The consensus was that Gus and Ruby would be dropped at the suite, that they’d be better off away from the party prep, and that they would surely calm down under Brian and Daph’s watch. Apparently, that hasn’t eventuated.

Sounding most affronted, Brian asks, “What do you mean?”

“I just… I don’t like it! I don’t know why you did it like this!”

“I used to style my hair like that!”

“Well, Daddy, that… that just don’t make no sense.”

Justin heads into the lounge area and almost bursts out laughing at the scene in front of him. Everybody is sprawled out in utterly chaotic surroundings. Spongebob is playing on the TV, although the volume is muted. There are pizza boxes lying open on the coffee table and the floor. Daph’s cosmetic bag looks like it’s been tipped out on one of the ottomans, with everything spread out in a big jumble. Gus is perched on the other ottoman, scowling at Brian, with his hair coiffed up very stylishly. Brian is on one end of the couch and currently interrogating his son about exactly what is so wrong about the hairstyle. Daphne is on the other end of the couch with Ruby cuddled closeby - she’s running the pink irons that Molly gave her for Christmas through Ruby’s hair, which is half-curly and half-straight. Both girls have purple face masks on, which almost match the shade of their freshly-painted nails.

“I liked your hair like that,” Daph comments, offering Brian a reassuring smile. “Gus, honey, it looks nice on you, too.”

“See?” Brian looks at Gus pointedly. “It looks good!”

Gus pouts. “No, I want it different!”

“I like your hair the way it is, Gussy,” Justin says, announcing his presence to them all.

“Jus!” Gus squeals and comes running. As he squeezes his arms around Justin’s legs, he pleads, “Fix my hair, Daddy made it weird.”

“I’ll fix it,” Justin promises. “Go sit down and grab the brush.”

As Gus goes bolting back towards the ottoman, Justin leans over the back of the couch to kiss Brian. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Brian kisses him back, then grabs the front of Justin’s t-shirt. “And where exactly have you been for the past five hours?”

“Painting.” Justin sighs and pushes at Brian. As Brian budges forward, Justin squeezes in behind him and wraps his legs around Brian’s middle. He kisses the back of Brian’s neck, then pulls Brian into his arms. “Painting, painting, and more painting.”

While Brian reclines lazily against Justin, Gus leaps onto the couch energetically and thrusts the brush at Justin.

“Fix my hair,” he says with another big pout.

Justin smiles at the boy and takes the brush. He uses his right hand to brush Gus’ hair back to normal, whilst running his left up and down Brian’s chest.

“Justin,” Ruby says, in that very solemn tone she often uses, “How do you like my hair?”

She gestures to the two sections of her hair - the right side curly, the left side straight - with a grand flourish.

“I like it straight,” Justin says, “But I love it curly.”

“You look gorgeous either way,” Daph agrees.

“Thanks.” Ruby beams over at Justin, then up at Daph. “Is it almost done?”

“Almost.” Daph smiles at the little girl, then resumes straightening her hair.

With Gus’ hair all brushed out, Justin drops the hairbrush and tussles Gus’ soft locks. “All done, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Jus.” Gus gives Brian a look and warns, “Don’t you do my hair like that again, Daddy. Or yours, either.”

“Fine,” Brian says, pulling a face right back.

Then Gus goes crawling over to Daph and Ruby. “I want my nails painted, too.”

Ruby’s face lights up. As she pushes the bag of nail polishes towards Gus, she asks, “Which colour are you going to choose?”

“I dunno…”

As the kids deliberate over colours, Justin kisses Brian’s cheek and whispers, “They’re going to bed soon, right?”

“One can only hope.”

“They’re pretty hyped up…”

“Oh, this is calm compared to what they were when Lindsay dropped them off.” Brian tosses a suspicious look Justin’s way. “Did you have anything to do with that?”

“I voted no, but I was outnumbered.” Justin nuzzles Brian’s cheek. “Sorry.”

As Brian huffs, Justin grabs the brush that he was using on Gus’ hair and starts running it through Brian’s. This clearly pleases Brian - he relaxes against Justin with a small smile playing on his lips. Justin finds himself smiling as well as he pulls the brush through Brian’s hair. He never tires of playing with it - it’s so gorgeous and silky.

“I want this one on my thumbs,” Gus announces, thrusting a bottle of sparkly pink polish at Daph, “And for my fingers…”

“You should choose this one,” Ruby giggles. She picks up a bottle of green polish. “Then your hands would be like watermelons.”

Gus pauses, glances at the pink, glances at the green, then bursts out laughing. As the kids fall to pieces, Justin exchanges a look with Daph and Brian.

“I’m going to order us some more cocoa,” Brian says, which makes Gus and Ruby screech with joy.

“And you know what goes well with cocoa, right?” Daph gives Justin a look and mouths _storytime._

Justin smiles at the kids, who are now overdue for bedtime by at least three hours. “I think a story might go well with the cocoa. What do you guys say?”

They don’t have much to say to that at all - at least, not in words. There is an awful lot of squealing, though. As Brian grabs for the phone, Justin and Daph exchange another look - one which is ripe with panic. Are the kids ever going to calm down?

*

It takes a generous helping of cocoa and four bedtime stories to put Gus and Ruby to sleep. By that point, Brian and Daph have abandoned Justin, who must brave the bedtime procedures alone. Their abandonment is partly fuelled by vengeance (“it’s your turn, now”) but also by Gus himself (“you two don’t need to stay for storytime, this is Jus’ thing”).

After finishing Cinderella with the compulsory “and they lived happily ever after…”, Justin places the book aside and glances down at Gus and Ruby. The kids are bundled up fast asleep. Gus has his watermelon nails, Ruby’s hair is straight as a pin. There are still some patches of purple face mask around her nose and eyebrows, but whatever - they can figure that out in the morning.

Justin wriggles out from in between the two kids, covers them with another blanket, and kisses their foreheads. They don’t stir at all. Justin takes that as his cue to bail. He leaves their bedroom, closes the door quietly, and then heads across the suite to the bedroom opposite. 

He finds Brian and Daph lying close together, whispering about something. Probably some embarrassing anecdote from his childhood that Daph has resurrected to entertain Brian with. 

“What are you two gossiping about this time?”

They grin at each other, then grin at him.

“Oh, nothing,” Daph says innocently.

“Yeah, nothing,” Brian agrees. Then he snorts and adds, _“Jus-Justy.”_

“Shut up!” Justin cringes. He flops down onto the bed and cuddles up with Daph. “I’m going to kill Molly for coining that name and then I’m going to kill you for repeating it.”

As Brian starts to snicker, Justin adds, “And I’m going to kill _you_ for laughing about it.”

“So many threats,” Daph muses. “I’m not convinced.”

“Oh, you’re not?”

“Nope. Only ‘cause it’s hard to believe you’re that violent after overhearing you read Hansel and Gretel to Gus and Ruby.”

Justin huffs. He abandons his violent threats and snuggles closer to Daph. As he buries his face in her soft hair and breathes in the scent of geranium, he mumbles, “As much as I love the kids, our evening didn’t exactly go to plan.”

Brian scoffs. “‘Didn’t exactly go to plan’?”

Daph snorts. “Uh, that’s a glaring understatement. In fact, I’d argue that beauty night with two almost-six-year-olds is kind of the exact opposite of getting high and watching American Psycho. I mean it was nice and all, but still…”

“I thought we were getting drunk…?”

“Brian scored some weed off the bellboy.”

Justin lifts his head and grins at Brian. “Good work.”

“Thank you.” Brian sighs and rolls onto his back. As he stares up at the ceiling, he wonders aloud, “How fucked do you think we’d be if we got high before Gus’ party?”

After a beat, Justin and Daph reply in unison, “Extremely fucked.”

“Mel would kill us,” Daph giggles.

“True.” Justin shifts a little and pulls Daph closer. “But if we got high _after…”_

Daph turns to look at him with a gleam in her eye. “ _…_ we could come back here and make those spoiled plans a reality.”

Brian grins from ear to ear. “I like the way you two think.”

Justin lifts his head again and eyes them both. “Is anyone else thinking of sleep right now?”

“After that?” Brian points towards the side of the suite where Gus and Ruby are _hopefully_ still slumbering. “Uh, yeah.”

Daph nods eagerly. “Sleep sounds good.”

Justin flops down and smiles to himself. “Sleep sounds _great.”_

**TBC**

 


End file.
